A Long Way to Go
by MsElegante
Summary: S2 spoilerish Belshoi: Linc & Jane FF. They are dealing with their pain and develop a friendship & feelings as they journey together. It’s sort of a catharsis for both of them as they learn about each other during the long trip.
1. Chapter 1

**_Background_**

The only spoilers are that Jane exists in S2 as an anti-company agent, Aldo is Lincoln's father, Sara has access to important information that could exonerate Lincoln, and that Lincoln & Aldo pick up Michael at Belshoi Booze.

Lincoln & Aldo meet up with Michael. Aldo gets killed in the process and Michael gets shot, but it's not life threatening. The brothers find Sara. The 3 of them meet up with Jane & LJ in Texas. Lincoln tells Sara that her father has information that could exonerate him. Sara gives Lincoln the key to a box that holds this information. The box is in Chicago. Jane agrees to go to Chicago to get the information & Lincoln decides to go with her. Michael's gunshot wound prevents him from going and therefore, Lincoln leaves LJ with Michael & Sara in the safe house.

_**Story begins**_

Lincoln rested his right arm on the window as he drove. There was an eerie silence that hung over them before he spoke.

"Listen Jane…I just want to say thank you for helping out with my son. I really appreciate it," Lincoln said. His voice sounded tired and filled with regret.

"He's a good kid," she said, looking over at him.

"Yeah he is," Lincoln said and a proud grin replaced the somber expression that had found a home on Lincoln's face over the past 3 years. "He got that from his mom," he added. Then Lincoln just shook his head in despair with the realization that the mother of his son was dead.

"I see a lot of you in him," Jane said with a tender smile.

Lincoln turned to her and gave a half smile. The kind of smile that told her he didn't believe that, but he desperately wanted to. Jane started to see a sorrowful quality in him. Lincoln came across as tough and strong. But there was a vulnerability to him, an underlying softness forged with a sense of self-deprecation. As if he didn't deem himself worthy somehow. And she couldn't help but wonder what made him that way. Was it a result of his incarceration and what the company had done or was he like this before?

Lincoln turned on the radio. He needed to clear his mind somehow. For the past hour he had been thinking about his son and the guilt he felt for leaving him behind once again. He kept remembering the last look in his son's eye. A look that said _I'm angry that you're leaving me, but I love you and I'm scared this will be the last time we'll ever see each other again._A look that pleaded with him to stay, to not abandon him once more. And it broke his heart.

Lincoln rubbed the inner corners of his eyes, holding back the pain. He sat up and took a deep breath, shifting in his seat. He needed to stay focus, retrieve the data and come back to his son alive.

He turned to Jane. "So how come you never had a family of your own? Is it because of the company?"

Lincoln turned the conversation to her. Partly because he wanted to temporarily free himself of his own demons and partly because he wanted to know why his father had abandoned him, hoping Jane's answers could provide some insight.

"I started working for the company a long time ago. Of course I didn't realize the sacrifices I had to make."

"Like not having a family?"

"Yes. That's one of them. I saw other agents who had families and I saw what it did to them. I saw families torn apart," her voice trailed off.

Jane looked out the window. She watched the road and how the trees disappeared in the distance. If only her memories could get lost so easily. She answered Lincoln's question. She never had a husband and a child of her own, but she held back the whole truth. As if speaking of the past would bring it back up again and make it come alive. How many nights had she spent crying in her pillow? How many days had she spent wishing it were her last?

She looked over at Lincoln, studying his face. She recalled the way he was with his son in Colorado. How LJ followed Lincoln around proudly, imitating his father. The deep love they shared with one another. The pained look when he said good bye both times and look of relief when he saw his son when he arrived in Texas with his brother and Sara.

Lincoln focused on the road, but he couldn't hide what was in his heart. The lost look, the deep regret, but mostly the love. And she felt envy for this man. A man who spend 3 years in isolation. A man who lost the love of his life. A man who just lost his father after re-discovering him. A man who had to leave his son.

Lincoln Burrows had something to fight for, something to live for—his son, his brother. But Jane had nobody, living a life so lonely to bear that walking into the lion's den had its appeal. Her fight against the company was solely a mission of revenge. It was a mission to die for.

Some time had passed by and Lincoln looked over at her. He could see she was lost in thought, her head resting on the window and she had this sad look on her face, as if remembering a distant memory. His first impression of her was a tough no-nonsense kind of woman. But suddenly he was seeing something more. Life with the company had taken its emotional toll on her. She had no husband, no child. She was no longer working for the company but yet still imprisoned by them. The company had robbed her of her life. And he started to think that maybe they both had something in common.


	2. Chapter 2

Jane checked the gas tank. It was less than a quarter of a tank.

"We're gonna need to fill up," she said and spotted a gas station a mile up the road.

She pulled into the self service and Lincoln huddled in the passenger seat with his shades on, hiding from view. Jane wasn't wanted from the police, her face wasn't plastered on America's most wanted and no one knew she was traveling the country with the infamous Lincoln Burrows. So she was free to leave the car and run all their errands. But she wore shades and a hat, tucking her long blonde hair up, in the slim chance the company was looking for her. She knew that if anyone was searching for her, that her hair would be a dead giveaway.

Through his dark aviators, Lincoln peered out and watched average people walking in and out of the convenience store. He paid careful attention to a man holding his son's hand. The boy looked about 3 or 4 years old. He was smiling as he ate his popsicle, which seemed too big for the little boy to handle.

It reminded him of LJ at that age. So clearly the image came to mind of the time Lincoln bought LJ a vanilla ice cream cone with colored sprinkles. It always had to be colored sprinkles. Lincoln could never tell the difference between the colored and the chocolate sprinkles. To him it tasted the same. But not to little LJ. He'd lick the cone, leaving smudges of ice cream and colored sprinkles all over his face. And Lincoln would always have to wipe his son's face off.

It's funny the little things you remember and stick to your mind after so much time has passed. On any other day it wouldn't have crossed his mind. But right now at this moment, it seemed like the most important memory to him. It represented a time of normalcy. A time when he was free to walk the streets with his son doing normal things like normal people.

He heard the sound of the car door opening and turned to see Jane hop in with two shopping bags filled with things she bought inside the convenience store and a cooler filled with ice. She pulled out a small bottle of water for herself, placed 1 bag in the back seat and the other bag on Lincoln's lap.

"I got you something," she said and started the car.

Lincoln looked in the bag and grinned.

"For me?" he asked.

"I thought you could use one."

He looked at the 6-pack of beer. "You don't know how much."

"I guess they didn't serve that in prison," she said driving, making sure she stayed within the speed limit.

"Only milk and juice," Lincoln frowned and pop the top of the can.

"You probably forgot what it tastes like."

He took a huge gulp and gave a satisfying moan. "Yep, but I'm remembering," he said and they both laughed.

"May you never forget," she said.

"I'll drink to that," he said and tucked the remaining cans in the ice filled cooler and set it on the floor between his legs.

She turned to watch him enjoy his drink. "So how was it in there? How do you deal with things like not being able to drink a cold beer?"

"It's strange you know," he rested his elbow on the window and rubbed his head. "At first it seems impossible. You feel like you could never let go of things. But the scary part is that you do. You learn to live without. You learn to let go of the things you love. Like beer, your favorite TV show…" He took another gulp of beer and shook his head. "Maaan, I used to love baseball. I used to watch the Cubs all the time."

"Like father like son," Jane said grinning and Lincoln sat up and looked over at her.

"You're talking about my father, right?"

"Yeah, Aldo loved the Cubs. We went to a couple of games together."

"My father took you to a Cubs game?" Lincoln looked at her with extreme curiosity. He had learned to hate his father for the past 30 years, but there was still a part of him that needed to know all about him. What kind of man was he? What were his likes and dislikes?

Jane could see she hit some kind of nerve in Lincoln. Nothing bad, but something in him that was missing. That somehow she held the key to something Lincoln needed to have in his life, a void in his heart. She looked over at him.

"Yeah we went to a couple of games. He was an avid fan. The kind of guy that kept score cards so he could have every play written down. Although he could recall it from memory anyway."

"I remember the last time I saw my dad as a kid. He took me to the Cubs game to watch his favorite pitcher pitch the game. I was around 4 at the time," his voice trailing off as he looked out the window.

"Seems like a good memory."

"It was…at the beginning anyway…and then…" Lincoln said. "Well, it was the last time I saw him, until recently anyway."

There was an uneasy silence and Lincoln could feel himself drifting into a pain he wanted to forget. He didn't like to show that side of himself to anyone, not even Michael.

"So," he said, sitting up as he reached for another beer. "I take it you like baseball."

"It's alright. I'm more of a football fan myself."

"Football? Not too many woman like football." But then Lincoln knew she wasn't an ordinary woman, recalling the cool way she shot that man in Aldo's house, saving his life.

"Well I didn't have much of a choice. I was an only child and my father loved football, so I used to watch it with him growing up. Then I started to like. It was our bonding time on Sundays. It was nice," she said then she too started to drift off.

"So you still watch football with your father?"

"No," she said, her voice lowering. "He past away a few years ago."

"I'm sorry," he said. "What happened?"

"He was murdered…It was a mugging. He had just left the atm, where he got 80 bucks. Some thief came and robbed. My father must have fought him off, because he was stabbed to death. Stabbed for 80 plus dollars and an old watch."

"Wow. I'm really sorry Jane. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's ok," she said and gave him a reassuring grin.

"Did they ever catch the guy?"

"Yes."

"So he's in jail?"

"No. He's dead," she said with a chilling finality.

Lincoln sat there frozen. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't even manage to press the can of beer to his lips. Did she kill the guy? As if reading his thoughts, Jane continued to speak.

"I didn't kill him if that's what you're thinking," she said.

"No, I ahh, the thought never crossed my mind."

Jane just looked at him grinning like she didn't believe him.

"Ok," he confessed. "Maybe for a minute."

They both laughed.

"So what about your mom. Does she like football too?" Lincoln asked.

"I don't know if she did. I never knew her. She died when I was a baby. A car accident my father said."

"That must have been rough, growing up without a mother."

"It was. I used to visit my friend's houses and they all had mothers. I used to wonder what it would be like to have one. Somebody to show me how to wear make-up, walk in heels. Things like that. It's no wonder I was a tom boy growing up. I guess I still am in a way."

Lincoln looked her, studying her face. And for the first time he noticed just how beautiful Jane was. It wasn't because he hadn't looked at her before. It was because he was preoccupied. Every minute with her was riddled with stress, the fight for life & death. And now here he was, alone in a car with her, drinking beers and talking, and it hit him just how attractive she really was. She didn't wear make-up or a dress up, but she didn't have too. And as he studied her some more, he grew curious as to how she would look dressed up. If she looked this beautiful plain, she must have men eating out of hands if she were to dress up.

Jane started to laugh as she recalled a memory. She hadn't noticed the way Lincoln was studying her, because she was focused on the road.

"What's so funny?" he asked almost laughing along with her.

"I was just thinking about growing up with just me and my father and how awkward that was for me…. I must have been about 12 when I got my period for the first time…"

Lincoln looked at her with a strange grin. He had dated plenty of women in the past and of course was familiar with menstruation, but never had a woman tell them of their first experience. And he found it oddly interesting for some reason.

"Of course I couldn't tell my dad. It was embarrassing. I knew all about periods. Some of my friends at school had gotten theirs. And I remember thinking, heck I'm not going to get mine. But of course I did," she said looking at Lincoln who shook his head in agreement. "So here I am in the bathroom with blood stained panties. I was horrified. What do I do now? My father was in the living room watching TV and I was scared to tell him. So I stuffed some tissues in my panties and asked to go to my best friend's house. My father told me to wait till tomorrow and I was like, but I can't dad, it's important. I couldn't wait till tomorrow, are you crazy. So he took me over and I asked my friend's mother to help me out. My friend hadn't gotten hers yet, so I couldn't ask her. So instead her mother showed me what to do. Explained how to use kotex and gave me some to take home. She was really good about it."

"What happened when you needed to buy more ahhh…supplies?" he said half laughing.

"My father gave me an allowance and I used that money," they both looked at each other with a funny grin. She turned back to the road. "But my dad was a good man. Maybe he overcompensated with me when my mother died. He took me everywhere he went and he used to love to show me off to all his friends. It was a good time, a really good time."

And as she spoke the sun dimmed in the distance as nightfall loomed.

"We should probably find a place to sleep," she said.

They spotted a motel and Jane went in and got a room for them. The place was fairly empty and she was able to get a room in the back. She parked the SUV in front of the door and they carried their bags into the room. Jane was the last to enter the room and Lincoln watched as Jane moved around the room like a professional. She drew the curtains closed and slid the chain on the door. She checked the bathroom. There was no window in it, just small vents, not big enough for anyone to sneak in on them.

"I'll take the bed by the door," she said and slid her gun under the pillow.

Lincoln was about to suggest taking that bed. He had always been the protector and it was strange to give that role up to someone else. He wasn't use to be the protected, especially by a woman. But he had to keep reminding himself that Jane was the professional, not him. So Lincoln followed suit and placed his gun under the pillow of the other bed farthest from the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you mind if I take a shower," Lincoln asked.

"Not at all," she said.

She sat on the bed and was watching TV when Lincoln stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. She couldn't help but admire his defined chest and how attractive he was standing there with a smile on his face. A lot like the smile he had when he drank the beer. As if he didn't take the small things, like beers & showers, for granted and she felt herself getting drawn to him. He had this façade, this angry strength that held him together, but there was something about him, something endearing and tender, especially when he smiled. She gave a slight smile back, but then forced a stern face, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable as he seemed so at ease with himself and so unaware of the affect it was starting to have on Jane.

"That felt good," Lincoln said still grinning with relief. "Nothing like a hot shower."

"Another one of those things you missed while you were in jail?"

"Definitely," he said and reached for a pair of jeans to slip on under his towel. And she turned away, giving him privacy.

He sat on the bed with his pants on and no shirt. "It's odd, as a death row inmate I was forced to shower alone, but I wasn't really alone."

"Because a guard was watching you?"

"Yeah. The gen pop guys, those are the regular cons that live among each other," he explained. "They mingle together. They shower together. Which can be good or bad, depending on the situation," he smirked and raised his eyebrow.

"I can imagine."

"Well, for the death row inmate, like me. I wasn't allowed to mingle. Even when showering. The guards would bind my hands and feet, as always. They'd take me down to the showers after everyone was done and I was forced to shower alone. But I couldn't shower everyday. Only 3 times a week. I guess it was too much trouble to bring me down everyday. It was easier to just let me rot alone in my cell," he said angrily then shook his head, trying to put that behind him. "Anyway, I was kept completely isolated from everyone. Except for my PI duties."

"PI?"

"Prison Industries. A unit of guys who do work around the jail. Well I was a so-called model inmate. I didn't give the guards any hassles and I'm strong," he said and she looked over at his muscular chest as he sat there shirtless. "So I guess the warden felt he could get a lot of work out of me. Well, anyway. John Abruzzi, you know the mob boss," he said and she shook her head as if she heard of him. "He was in charge of PI. And as you know he was part of the escape, so he got me on his PI duty. Which was good. It got me some time to be with Michael, although we never had any real private time."

"How come?"

"There were other guys in PI. And they were all suspicious of one another. So we would try and talk to each other while walking and getting tools. But there was always some con trying to hear what we were saying and some guard keeping an eye on us. But sometimes we'd manage."

"How did you first see Michael in jail? Did you know he was getting himself arrested to help break you out?"

"Hell no! If I knew what he was going to do I would have told him not to do it. That's probably why he never told me," Lincoln shook his head and smirked. "I wanted him to forget about me and get on with his life. But here I am in chapel, of course I'm all chained up and sitting alone, a whole pew to myself, because death row inmates can't have contact with other cons, even in chapel." Again he had that angry look in his face and took a deep breath. "So here I am in chapel and I turn and see my brother standing there, and he's a con. A Con!"

"Why did you think he was there?"

"I don't know. I thought he was there for some crime because of me." He sighed.

"You?"

"When I went to prison, it was like abandoning him. I was all he had. So I thought maybe he was angry and did something stupid. You know, to subconsciously get even. I was so angry at him, at myself. But I was mostly hurt. The thought of Michael in a place like that. It's not for him. He wasn't meant for jail….Anyway, he tells me he's gonna break me out. He helped design the place. Wow, that was mind blowing. I went back to my cell and just started to pace the room. I needed to talk to him. I needed some answers."

"About the escape?"

"About everything. He lays this on me and I don't even get a chance to ask any questions. I was left so confused. What was he talking about? Then I started to panic. My brother was in jail with cons all around him and I wasn't there to protect him. Nobody knew he was my brother, so using my name couldn't help him get out of a bind."

"You had some kind of reputation?"

"Yeah, you can say that. My nick name was 'Linc the Sinc'. I was pretty much feared in jail. I was on death row, I had nothing to lose by killing a man."

"But you're not a killer."

"But no one knew that that." Lincoln replied.

Jane recalled the expression on Lincoln's face after she shot Leon. Breathless, his heart pounding as he stood there with blood on his hand. He was forced to do the unthinkable to save him and his son, stab a man. Surely it was justifiable. But she would never forget the look his eyes. A look mixed with horror, at his blood stained hand and the dead body lying on the floor. And fear, of almost dying and the imminent threat to his son. She remembered the way he looked at LJ, a look she would never forget and it pulled at her heart. It was a look of realization—that it was far from over and there may be many more deaths to come, hoping that theirs wouldn't be added to the death toll. Lincoln Burrows was no killer. He did what he needed to do to survive the injustice that plagued his family. He had a tough rugged exterior, but deep inside he was man with an undying love for his son. And she admired him for that, wondering what it would be like to love somebody so completely that your life becomes secondary.

"Being a convicted killer gives you a pretty good rep in jail." He proceeded to say. "Nothing I'm proud of," his voice trailed off and he paused. "So I'm worried about my little brother. And I'm stuck in a dark room with only my fear for Michael to keep me company. I didn't even know what he was in for and for how long. Then what if this plan of his didn't work and he gets 10 more years added to his sentence. I had no idea that he had tats of the plans inked on his body. I thought he memorized it and I was worried about whether he would forget the plans. My brother's a genius, but it's not easy to remember every little detail. Then I started getting angry at him for ruining his life on an idea that could never work. I wanted to knock some sense into him. But then… there was that little thing that started to come alive in me. It started to rattle at my heart and chock at my senses."

"And what was that?" she asked, leaning toward him.

"Hope. The one thing a dying man should never have," he said and laid his head back. "That was a rough night for me, a really rough night," his voice trailed off.

Jane studied him for a bit, watching him reflect on that night, seeing the stress in his face as it tightened up. "Sounds like you and Michael are close."

"We weren't always. Before this whole thing we didn't get on very well. I don't even think he liked me. Can't say that I blame him."

And there it was again—the self-deprecation. Then Jane realized that this self loathing had occurred before his incarceration. But what caused it?

"I find that hard to believe. Your brother risked his life for you. He threw away a promising career and got himself arrested to save your life."

"Yeah," he said shaking his head. "I still can't believe it. Michael was always a special kid. He cared for people, always very sensitive."

"But he did this for YOU. Not anybody else. You two obviously have a special connection. He must have loved you in order to do this for you. You must have had some good in you, something that would make him risk everything."

"I don't know. I guess," Lincoln thought for a moment, trying to put thoughts together. He could feel himself getting chocked up, remembering Michael as a child always looking up to him. Always asking him questions and believing any half assed answer he gave, even when he didn't know the answer. "I borrowed some money from some guys. That's how this whole thing started. I used the money to pay for his college. But I never told him. He didn't find out until I was arrested for killing Steadman."

"Why didn't you tell him about the money?"

"I didn't want him to owe me anything," he laughed nervously. "And in the end…I guess he felt he did. Man, what a mess."

"That doesn't explain why the 2 of you weren't close."

"Well…I'm a screw up. Been in and out of jail. Anyway…as part of this cover-up for the money I got him. I claimed it was a life insurance policy for when mom died. So he thought I also got 90 grand. But when I didn't do anything with it, he just assumed I pissed it all away. I guess, he thought very little of me after that. And our relationship fell apart."

"Maybe you should have told him."

"Hindsight is 20-20. I thought I was doing him a favor. I didn't want him to have to help out by paying me back. I just wanted him to have a better life. He deserved it." Lincoln brought his fingers to the corners of his eyes, holding back a tear. He was strong, the patriot of the family, he wasn't supposed to cry, just suck it up, be the man. But the thought of his brother suffering on his behalf was emotionally painful for him. It shouldn't have happened. It was his job to take care of Michael, not the other way around.

"And you? What do you deserve?"

"Good question." He looked at her and pondered a moment. "I really don't know. But what I do know is that my son needs me. He doesn't have a mom anymore and so I have to do the best for him. It's not about me or what I need. It's about what LJ needs."

"But every man needs something."

He rubbed his face and turned away for a moment then looked back at her. "There was something I needed. But it was taken away from me. Maybe in the end I didn't deserve to have what I needed."


	4. Chapter 4

Lincoln sat in bed watching TV while Jane took her shower. It felt so odd to watch TV after all this time. He was flipping though the stations mindlessly trying to find something of interest, but somehow it had lost its appeal. It was an imaginary world to him, so foreign. There was so many real and important things going on in the world and yet he knew there people all over America who were sitting at home wasting valuable time away from their families in order to have their senses dulled by the tube.

He turned to the news to see if there was any information about the manhunt then he rubbed his head in frustration. He needed to stop thinking of the severity of his life and let go. Be a normal person again. He flipped the channel and found some reality show. He'd never seen it before, heck he'd never heard of it before. But the man on the show looked familiar. He studied his face, trying to recall. Then it dawned on him. That was Donald Trump. Why would Donald Trump be on TV? He continued to watch with mild curiosity when he heard the bathroom door open and turned to see Jane step out. Her long hair was wet and her body was barely covered in a towel.

She walked over to her bag, searching for something to put on and he couldn't help but follow her across the room with his eyes. She had nice curves. Her legs and arms were toned with sleek definition. And suddenly he forgot all about Donald Trump.

Jane found what she was searching for. A satin beige slip. She looked over at Lincoln.

"Oh, I'll close my eyes," he said and waited until Jane gave him the okay to look.

He opened his eyes to see her towel drying her hair. The slip had spaghetti straps and just covered her butt. And when she turned to face him, he could see the way the slip hugged her hips, the form her body took under the thin layer of satin. He had not expected her to wear such feminine nightwear, maybe cotton pajamas. He had always seen her in loose fitting slacks. Jane came across as a tough woman, but in private, in this slip, she appeared elegant and womanly. There was definitely more to Jane then the persona she gave out.

She looked at him and he quickly turned away and went back to watching TV. He felt slightly embarrassed and hoped she hadn't caught him looking at her. _Just keep watching TV. Don't make her self-conscious._

Jane noticed Lincoln staring at her and felt flattered. He was a man who hadn't been this close to a half naked woman in 3 years. Of course he would look at her. So why had she felt so flattered? She studied him and it was clear—he wasn't the typical con. In fact, there wasn't anything typical about Lincoln Burrows. He was visibly embarrassed, turning away instead of gawking at her. She walked over to her bed and sat down, slipping the covers over her legs.

"You like this show?" she asked, breaking the ice that suddenly came between them.

"It's alright I guess. It sure beats staring at prison walls," he said, his eyes glued on the TV and avoiding her femininity.

"Anything would I suppose."

He raised his eyebrows in agreement.

"So what did you do for entertainment while you were in jail, since you couldn't watch TV and you weren't allowed to talk to anyone?"

"I read a lot. But only during the day. There were no lights in my cell. So during the daylight hours the guards would open up a hole in my door and let some light come in. I would huddle by this light and read," he said looking in her direction but not looking at her, his eyes constantly moving about.

"What types of books would you read?"

"Anything. There a library at the prison and they would get me books. So I would read them and imagine myself there. It was like traveling out of my hell, even though I never left my cell."

"That must have been horrible for you," she said sympathetically.

"In the beginning. But like I said before, you just get used to things. You get a routine and you just follow it. You learn to cope."

He turned to look at her. Jane had carefully laid her wet hair off to her far shoulder, leaving the one closest to him exposed. He resisted the urge to look down at the way her body pushed through her flesh-colored slip. His eyes focused on hers.

"But still, reading in a stream of light surrounded by darkness?"

"They try to break you in there. I've seen lots of guys come in to the SHU as their punishment and some of them lose it. They can't take the confined space. It's suffocating at times and if you stare at the walls long enough it feels like they're about to collapse in on you." He shook his head, clearing the horrid vision from his mind. "Like I said, some of these guys go nuts. Sometimes it begins with yelling, banging on the door, crying and then that eerie silence. And you don't know if that con has gone mad or has just accepted it….The trick is to just accept from the beginning. Play the game. A lot of guys can't do that."

"The game?"

"Yeah. Like the stream of light. I used it. I used it to think, reflect, read. I used it to get away."

"And then what?"

He bent his legs, resting his elbows on them. His head tucked between his hands. "And then the darkness comes back," he said.

She watched him reflect on those painful moments. The many days and nights he had spent in the SHU remembering what life was like. Going over the what-ifs, the things he could have done to change his situation. The people in his life he loved and who loved him back. And the one memory he relived above all others—the memory of her. The day Veronica graduated from Law School. The day she ended up in his arms. The sweetness of her kisses, the warmth of her touches. He had spent so much time in the SHU, in the madness of desolation and darkness that he relived it over and over again, ensuring that it really happened. That it wasn't a dream. That night with her was something they could never take away from him. The way she looked at, the way she loved him, gave him the strength to endure.

He lifted his head up and laid it back against the wall. "They couldn't break me Jane, they couldn't break me… It would have been so easy for me to break too. I was innocent. I didn't kill Steadman. I didn't deserve to be there. I was stripped of my dignity, taken away from my son, from my life…That alone could have eaten me up and sent me to the psychiatric ward." He closed his eyes and continued to speak. "When you're locked in a cell, surrounded by darkness, the only things you have to keep you company are your thoughts…. The things you think about…The things you remember…Past memories…Those are the things that determine whether or not you will survive. I chose to relieve the memories that were most dear to me. I struggled to keep the demons of my past life out of my head. If I let them seep in, if I let them take over, I would have gone crazy." He rubbed his head. "The demons of my past life," he repeated, his voice drifting into reflection. "When you're on death row, living in solitary, everything you did before you got there, was a past life. As if your life in the SHU, is not really a life, but a sort of purgatory. A place where you reflect on the life you had, a life that already come and gone. You have no new memories, new friendships, nothing. Everything stops."

She felt just overwhelming compassion for him that she felt like going over to him and hugging him. Telling him that it was alright, but she didn't feel comfortable just yet. And she resisted the urge. She'd never been in jail, let alone solitary confinement, and she couldn't fathom how anyone could live through that, especially an innocent man. He must have been mentally strong to endure such torment.

"I'm sorry," was all she managed to say.

"It's not your fault," he looked up at her and gave her a reassuring grin. He sat up and cleared his mind. He needed to change the subject. He was no longer in that place and needed to distance himself from it before getting sucked back into the abyss of desolation which haunted him for 3 years. "So," he said. "What do you do for fun?"

"What do I do for fun?" she asked herself, then looked up thinking. Some time had passed and Lincoln wondered why that was such a difficult question. He assumed she would come up with a quick answer that would lighten their conversation up. "Let's see…I like to go to the shooting range," she replied.

"The shooting range?! That's an odd hobby," he said and chuckled.

"Yeah I suppose it is. There a peace about it though," she said and Lincoln leaned closer finding this oddly curious.

"How did you get so comfortable with a gun?"

"Like I said before I'm an only child. And my father use to love to hunt. So he would take me along. So the very first gun I ever handled was a rifle. At first it was awkward, but I got used to it."

"Did you like hunting?"

"Yes and no. I didn't really like killing animals. Although we did eat what we killed," she said as if justifying herself. "But for me it was about spending time with my dad. I liked being with him. It was the closest times we shared…When you're sitting there waiting, you get a lot of time to talk and get to know someone. It was a great bonding time for us. Those are the things I most remember growing up. The times with him."

"Sounds like you had a special relationship with your dad."

"We did," she said grinning and he could see her eyes come to life.

"So now that you're all grown up, why do you enjoy shooting as a hobby? Surely there are more exciting things for you to do."

"I don't know. Like I said, there's a peace about it. A type of calmness that comes from it. I know it sounds odd to you," she said and he nodded his head in agreement.

"Maybe it represents what you and your dad had together."

"That's quite possible…There's also a feeling of control that comes from handling a gun. That I have the power and that I can't get hurt. I guess at the end of the day, it's just me and my gun."

"That sounds kind of lonely," he said and she just looked at him.

_More than you know._ "Well we better get some sleep, we still have a long way to go," she said.

Jane turned her back and fell asleep. And as he watched her in the darkness, he could see a glimmer of street light creeping its way through the corner of the window, casting a halo around her as he studied her silhouette.

He reflected on the way she said, _It's just me and my gun_. And he felt truly sorry for her. Like him she had lived her life in darkness, a solitude forced on her by situation or choice or maybe a combination of both. She was a beautiful young woman who should have a brighter future. But instead of reaching for the light of hope, she lived in the shadows of emptiness. But why? She could have so much more. Jane helped protect his son. She was helping to find evidence to exonerate him. She was a woman with a good heart and good soul. Why had she chosen a life of solitude? Why had she chosen to live her life in the SHU?


	5. Chapter 5

As Lincoln entered the driver's seat he removed the gun that was tucked in the back of his pants, placing it in the center compartment. And as he did so he couldn't help but think about what Jane said last night about going to the shooting range as a hobby. Jane was definitely different from any woman he had ever known.

"What's wrong?" Jane asked studying his strange expression as he tucked his gun away.

"I was just thinking about what you said about your gun," he said starting the car.

"You find it hard to believe that my gun can be my best friend," she said jokingly.

"Most people just get a dog or a cat." He drove off, carefully merging with traffic.

"Well I did name my gun Smith," she joked, making a reference to the Smith & Wesson gun company.

He shook his head. "Come on Jane. I find it hard to believe you spend your free time shooting into a white piece of paper in a closed room. Surely, you must do something else. You must have friends, a man in your life? It can't be just you and your gun."

"Yeah, well my gun never misses. And when I need it the most, it never shoots blanks," she said devilishly.

That sexual connotation was so unexpected and he had been so unaccustomed to it, that he laughed out loud. And she couldn't help but join in. The energy of it was infectious, as if they had been waiting for so long to really let lose and laugh.

"Ok," he said. "I'm not gonna touch that one." He shook his head. "Seriously, you're an attractive woman. I find it hard to believe you don't have a man in your life."

_I had a man in my life…once. _"Well, I guess no one ever measured up," she replied.

"Sounds like an excuse," he said.

"And what am I supposed to do? Walk into a bar, pick up a guy and take him home with me?" she asked.

"Well that's a start," he said jokingly.

"It just wouldn't work. It's not like I could say 'hey my name is Jane and I work for the anti-company, plotting to overthrow conspirators. I carry a gun and I kill people for a living'. I don't think that will get me to a second date."

"Well I know some guys that might find that rather attractive," he said smiling.

"Yeah right," she replied.

"Jane, you don't have to tell them what you do."

"So just lie huh. Tell them I'm a secretary for some boring computer company. Basically live a lie…I don't know Lincoln. It just seems hopeless for me at this point," she said, her mind drifting off.

"Surely there's a man out there you could learn to trust with your past. Maybe not at the beginning, but over time. Someone who would understand it and eventually except it."

"There just doesn't seem to be a lot of options for someone like me."

"So you choose to close yourself off from the opposite sex?"

"In my line of work it's best not to get too close. Every time you get close, people die," she said.

Lincoln took a deep breath. He understood that all too well. Too many people he knew and cared about died. Too many lives shattered.

"Then why not choose something else?" he asked solemnly, "Why dedicate your life to this? What's in it for you?"

"Revenge," she spurted out coolly.

He turned to look at her with a quizzical look. "That's no life Jane."

"Sometimes you reach a point in life when revenge is the only thing you have left."

"Maybe it's time to find something new to do."

"I don't know how."

Like Jane he too wanted revenge. He too wanted to bring down Caroline Reynolds and the Company. But the difference between them was that for him it wasn't just for the sake of revenge, but to get his life back, to break free from the chains of purgatory and live once again.


	6. Chapter 6 LJ

Spoilerish for S2, episodes 8, 9 & 10…

"I remember when LJ was little, around 5 years old. Lisa and I weren't together. We had just separated and it was hard for him to understand…I had him on the weekends and I used to make him blueberry pancakes. That was his favorite food, He used love that stuff, just couldn't get enough of it," Lincoln gave a slight laugh at the pleasant memory of his son. Then his expression turned serious. "And I remember him looking up at me and asking why we couldn't do this everyday. It was just an innocent question, from a little boy who didn't understand why I wasn't living with his mom. I tried to explain that me and Lisa couldn't live together. But that we loved him very much and I would spend as much time with him as possible." Lincoln looked out the window. "It's hard for a child to understand that…And I wonder if he hadn't felt abandoned from me even back then." He sighed and shook his head as he pondered what ramifications this had on his son. "Like father like son I suppose," Lincoln said, thinking of how his own father had left him.

Jane ignored that last comment about Aldo, shaking it off. "You're worried that your son feels abandoned because you're here, going to Chicago, instead of staying behind?"

He turned to look at her. "There are different forms of abandonment. You don't have to pack up and leave, never to see your children again. They need to be around their parents regularly growing up…Even jail can be a form of abandonment… You know, when I went into jail for killing Steadman, he was only 13. Now he's 16. He went from a boy to a young man and I missed it…," he said and slammed his fist on the side of the door. His expression turned angry. "They took that away from me…You know I couldn't even hold my son?" he asked looking at her with a pained look on his face.

"I didn't know that," she said feeling deep sadness for him.

"As a death row inmate, I wasn't even allowed to have close personal contact with my visitors. I was separated by them through a gate, with my hands and feet bound. I was dehumanized, treated like an animal."

He rested his head on the window and Jane could see the lingering pain still living on his face. He was a man so damaged from the victimizations he had endured by the conspiracy. And she was worried about how he would get through this and put the pieces of his life back together.

And as she watched Lincoln, he started to drift back, floating to a moment in time with his son he would never forget. It was the last day LJ visited him at Fox River and Lincoln asked LJ for the biggest favor he could ask a 16 year old—to visit him on the day he was going to die. Lincoln reached up and their fingers touched through the holes in the gate. Holes so small that they couldn't even grip each other's hands, only their fingers.

"All I wanted was to hold him in my arms and I couldn't. Even on the day I was scheduled to die, the only day I was allowed to come into contact with visitors, without a gate. EVEN ON THAT DAY, I was denied the chance to hold my son. They framed him for his mom's murder and he was forced to hide, and I couldn't even see him and hold him."

Lincoln drifted off again, staring out the window, recalling the pained voice in his son's throat on visitation day as they spoke on the phone. It was so awkward. He didn't want to call his son. He didn't think he would have the strength to make that phone call. Yet he needed to call, to hear LJ's voice over the phone. All the things Lincoln wanted to say to him, the things he wanted to do with him. And all he had was a phone call with death looming over him, with the reality that this was all they would ever have. That this would be LJ's final memory of him.

Lincoln sighed. "How do I make it up to LJ? I can't get the years back that we lost when I was in jail, when he went from a boy to a young man."

"I don't know Lincoln. But he doesn't blame you for what happened."

"How do you know?" he asked looking at her.

"Because when we were together, his anger was directed at the company & the president, and what they had done to you, to both of you. He was very worried about you when you left. He was scared."

"He seemed angry at me. When I told him I was going to have to leave him behind to go to Belshoi and even this last time, he was hurt. He thought I was abandoning him like my father had done to me. He basically told me so when I left for Belshoi. I'm getting really good at that…" he shook his head and Jane again tried to ignore the negative reference to Aldo. She completely understood Lincoln's feeling toward Aldo, but it bothered her nonetheless. "When I hugged LJ to say goodbye, he barely hugged me back, like he hates me."

"He loves you. He's been through a lot and he's terrified…If anything happens to you, he would have lost both his parents in a short period of time. It's a lot for him to handle."

"I know. I just wish I was there with him now. I wish none of this happened to us. "

"You will be soon enough."

"I'm just scared that when all this is over and it's just me and my son that I won't know what to say. I haven't been there for him. Even before all this I was no more than a part-time dad, seeing him on the weekends. It was Lisa who raised him, not me. And now she's gone and I'm lost…Even after I got my son back, we were only together for a day and we got into an argument."

"About what?"

"About the car. LJ was acting like a kid his age, checking out chicks and he got us noticed and we had to ditch the car. I tried to explain to him why we needed to ditch the car and he took it personally, as if I was saying that he couldn't handle himself. And I guess I was saying that….I screwed that up bad. He got so upset he was going to leave me."

"Lincoln you shouldn't be too hard on yourself. He's just a kid and you needed to explain things to him, make him understand the severity of your situation."

"But the problem is that I haven't been around him. And I feel like I don't have the right to discipline him. I know that what I was saying was right, it was the way I said it. There's been so much distance between us that I'm trying to be his friend, get to know my son. And it makes it that much harder to be a parent…The reality is that I haven't earned the right to tell him what to do," he looked at Jane. "Truth is I don't know how to be a parent."

"Well I can't help you there. But what I can do is tell you that you mean the world to him. He idolizes you, and maybe that's a start."

"Idolizes me? Yeah right," he said.

"It's true," she said. "I remember when we first arrived in Colorado and you stepped out of the van and eyed up Leon and said 'What are you looking at'. Your son then turned to Leon and gave him a look. It was like he was trying to be tough like you."

Lincoln had not been aware of this, too absorbed with everything that was going on. He paid careful attention, beginning to feel a sense of pride.

"Then when you were in the house and you were so angry at me, at all of us. He stood by your side the whole time. And because you refused to sit down, so did LJ. He was imitating you, studying you, following your lead."

"That's probably because he was so messed up about everything and didn't know what to do," Lincoln said.

Jane smiled at him. "He was imitating you Lincoln and imitation is the best form of flattery. He wants to be like you. He wants your toughness, your strength. And I think he's got that."

Lincoln grinned as he sat back and reflected on her words. Jane had a way about her. She was a good listener and always seemed to say the right things, easing his mind and making him feel a little less negative about himself.

"Did he tell you how I got him away from the Feds?" Lincoln asked.

"He told me," she laughed. "And he's got the stitches to prove it. And when he was telling me, he had this big grin on his face. He seemed to like your plan very much."

"Did he tell you he punched a guy?" Lincoln said proudly.

"Yeah, he did."

Then he sighed. "I just hope he doesn't get into too many fights like I did. I want him to be more like Michael, more brains, less brute."

_Lincoln, don't sell yourself short. You're a good man, a really good man._ "The good news is that you're going to be there to watch him become an adult."

"I hope so," he said.

"We'll make it right," she said, tenderly gripping his forearm, comforting him and he turned to look at her. She wanted to make him feel better. She wanted to take his pain away. "I promise," she said.

He clutched her hand and smiled, looking into her eyes. "I wish I could be as optimistic."

Jane smiled back, and Lincoln couldn't help but notice how beautiful & full her lips were, how her eyes softened when she smiled, and the tender beauty that emanated from her.

This moment lingered, a moment where their eyes came together and their hands became one, a moment where she longed to give him hope and he needed to take it and gain strength from it. And there was a feeling within both of them, an uncertainty of what was happening between them, if anything. Was it just a touch or something more, something neither expected? They released each other's grasp and there was an awkward silence, neither knowing what the other was thinking or feeling, both trying to wipe the thought of something more out of their minds. It was just a moment, it meant nothing, they both convinced themselves.


	7. Chapter 7

They finally reached Chicago but they needed to wait until morning to enter the bank and get access to the safe deposit box that had the information they needed. Jane found a hotel a couple of blocks from the bank and parked in front of it. Lincoln stayed behind in the car as Jane checked into the hotel and carried their bag upstairs.

She returned to the car to get Lincoln.

"This hotel is not like the others. We're on the 5th floor and there are a couple of people in the lobby," Jane said. "So we're going to have to get you upstairs without anyone recognizing you."

So they devised a plan. Although it was nighttime, Lincoln put his shades on and lifted the collar of his shirt to help conceal himself. They entered the lobby and saw a few people who weren't paying any attention to them, but they needed to play it safe regardless.

Lincoln slipped his arm around Jane's shoulder pulling her tight to his body. She wrapped her arm tightly across his waist, slipping her hand in his pants. He leaned in and snuggled his mouth close to her neck, gently kissing her, his face hidden from the public, neatly tucked away under her blonde strands. To anyone looking, Jane and Lincoln looked like a happy couple who were anxious to reach their hotel room. She giggled under his kisses as they walked, playing the excited lover.

They made their way toward the elevator, and she could feel his lips move against her flesh, the warmth of his breath caressing her and she felt a sudden surge of energy flush through her body. It had been so long since she had a man this close to her and although she knew it was a rouse, she couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of being this close to him. She didn't know if it felt as good to him as it did to her, but she enjoyed his tender kisses and found herself wishing it were real.

They stood by the elevator with an older couple waiting. The couple looked at them then turned away, giving the intimate couple some privacy. Jane reached up and took this opportunity to touch his chest, her fingers gently feeling the muscles under his opened shirt. She found herself getting more and more attracted to him with each kiss on her neck. Or maybe she had always been attracted to him. He was a good looking man with a power about him she found alluring.

Lincoln could feel her fingers trailing along his flesh and he could feel himself getting aroused by this beautiful woman he had come to know. He didn't want her to stop, getting caught up in what was happening. He knew it was just a game, but for him it was turning into something more. The smell of her shampoo dulled his senses and he nibbled on her ear, sending goose bumps trickling down her spine.

The elevator opened and they walked in, still wrapped in each other's arms. Jane leaned against the corner so that Lincoln would have his back facing the couple. But his insides stirred. His eyes were locked on the fullness of her lips and he reached down and pressed his mouth against hers. She pulled him tight to her body and let him delve his mouth upon hers. Their tongues collided as their hearts pounded against each other. Their kisses grew passionate and heated, her hands loving the strength of his back.

"Excuse me," the lady said. "But I think it's your floor."

"Thank you," Jane said flushed and they rushed out of the elevator and jogged to their room, both acting like it never happened but both wishing it didn't have to end.

Lincoln took a deep breath as he studied the room and the 2 separate beds, feeling a sense of disappointment. But he needed to get his head straight. He knew it wasn't real, at least not for her he thought. And he started to feel guilty. What was he thinking? Truth was, he wasn't thinking at all. His body flushed with feelings he hadn't experienced in over 3 years, feelings he had abandoned thinking he would never be in that situation again. 3 years in solitary had given him little hope of holding a woman, leaving him with nothing more than memories of experiences from the past. But now he was no longer in jail, but he still lived in chains—bound to a dream that died just a couple of weeks ago. He started to feel guilty for wanting another woman when he had no right. His heart was still bound to Veronica, still mourning her death, still dreaming of a life that could never be. He had no right to feel attracted to another, to want to feel the warmth of a beautiful woman.

Jane turned to see a guilt ridden expression on Lincoln's face and wondered if he too felt something, if their kisses meant more to him as well. There was a part of her that wanted to reach out for him, to hold him in her arms and tell him she wanted it to continue. But she resisted the urge. He was obviously still suffering major losses in his life and this was no time to take advantage of the situation.

"So I guess I'll take the bed by the door as always," she said breaking the ice.

"Right," he said and laid down, trying to clear his head.

He tried to focus on other things aside from his desires and guilt. And the image of his son came to his head. They seeped in and blurred out the passions that brewed inside him.

Some time had passed and Jane watched Lincoln as he lay on his bed lost in thought. This was the longest silence that stood between them and she wasn't sure if she should speak. But the room felt uncomfortable all of a sudden and she was concerned that maybe the closeness they were experiencing over the last couple of days had turned to ice.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

He turned to look at her. Her hair glistened against the night lamp and her eyes sparkled. She was beautiful.

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "I was just thinking about my son."

"You'll see him soon enough," she said and smiled.

_Ah…Those lips._

He shook his head off. "I want to call him. I want to talk to him. But I know it's dangerous." He stood up pacing the room, shifting his thoughts to LJ and how his must be feeling.

She watched him pace the room and felt disappointment and frustrated, wishing he was more into her right now.

_What am I thinking? I hardly know this man. I can't expect him to just fall into my arms. Of course he's thinking about his son. He's worried. He has more important things on his mind than just me._

"I know I keep saying the same thing over and over again, but I still feel like I'm abandoning my son. I can't help but feel this way." He pressed his fingers against is head. "I need to let this go and think about the future like you said. But I keep thinking that I'm turning into my father. I always said I wouldn't and here I go doing the same damn thing."

"You can't seem to let this animosity toward your father go, can you?" She started feeling annoyed. Not only was he not interested in her, but now he was bad mouthing Aldo again, bringing negativity into the situation.

"I don't know. Sometimes I can let it go, when I think about how the old man died, what he tried to do for us. He risked his life for us and he paid the price with his life. It's just hard for me. I have 30 years of hate built up and then he dies like a hero. And I feel…I don't know how I feel."

He sat on the edge of the bed next to her. Something about being next to Jane left him with a calming affect. She put a tender hand on his shoulder.

"Well you have a lot of unresolved feelings about your father."

"That I do. There's a part of me that hates him & there's a part of me that's still a 4 year old boy, that loves him. And I feel guilty for being angry. But I can't help it. There's this bond I have with the old man. I don't want to care about him, but I do. I can't help it. But there's also another part of me that's…"

"That's what?"

"That's happy gone," he said and looked at her with sadness. She removed her hand from his shoulder and looked down, her expression distant. He continued to speak. "Not because I wish him death Jane, but because I know I'll never see him again because he's dead and not because he doesn't care about me. I'll never see him again and it's not because of me, because he doesn't care enough to be a father and be in our lives. He's dead and it's over. I don't have to be disappointed when he doesn't come back into our lives…Ah, I'm all messed up. I barely know him and I miss him. I'm talking crazy."

He looked over at Jane, who sat silent. Her expression turned to pain. Her face scrunched up and she gasped.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice chocked up and she rushed to the bathroom and closed the door.

"Jane?" Lincoln said and followed her only to stop at the closed door. He knocked. "Jane, are you alright?"

She didn't say anything, leaving him with a silence that left him concerned. He sat back down on the bed, staring at the door, waiting for her to come out. He rubbed his head, trying to understand what had just happened. Then he thought for a moment. He said he was glad that his father was dead. _Oh No. Jane and my father_ He hurt her feelings and he felt a thickness in his throat.

Several minutes passed and Jane stepped out. Her eyes were swollen. He stood up and walked over to her.

"Jane I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't realize."

She gently placed her hand on his shoulder as if reassuring him and walked toward her bed and slumped down.

He sat down next to her.

"Jane, look at me." She continued to look down, avoiding his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, gently placing his hand on her back, rubbing it gingerly, trying to console the pain he knew he caused her.

She looked up at him with a sadness that broke his heart. He felt so callous at having inflicted pain on a woman who had done so much for him.

"I didn't know," he said. "I didn't know that you and my father were more than just business partners. I guess I just didn't put it together. I mean, you 2 trusted each other. It never dawned on me that the 2 of you were lovers."

She smiled and gave a half laughed, muffled under her pain. "Is that what you think?"

"Yeah. Why? The 2 of you weren't lovers?" he said looking confused.

"No. Don't worry Lincoln, I was never going to be your step-mother," she said and he felt so relieved to hear that. Although he wasn't sure why. And the stiffness he felt in his body subsided.

"Then I'm confused," he said shaking his head.

"I loved your father very much. But not in the way you think. You see Lincoln…I loved him like a father."

"Ah," he said taking a deep breath. "I see," he said rubbing his hands together nervously.

"Lincoln, I know the 2 of you weren't close. And I understand how you feel. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or have you resent me in some way. But Aldo was good to me. We shared some great times and he taught me things. He became a father figure. And I think he saw me like his daughter in a way. I was the only one he completely trusted."

"So you're like my step-sister," he said solemnly and suddenly the stiffness he felt earlier came back.

She laughed. "I guess you could look at it that way."

The last thing Lincoln wanted was to look at her as a step-sister or a relative of any kind. And the fact was, neither did she.

"So basically my father abandoned me but treated you like a daughter."

"Lincoln," she said and he stood up and paced the room.

He had felt a sudden urge of resentment and jealousy toward Jane. Aldo had been more of a father to a total stranger than his own flesh and blood.

"Lincoln," she called out again, standing up and following him. "I know how difficult this is to hear."

"How could you know? This man left us behind. He deserted us and we needed him. We were left on our own."

"He had no choice. He had to keep you safe."

"And look at where it got us. I was nearly executed, my brother is on the run and so is my son. My whole is family is destroyed. He could have come at any time to help us. What about the 3 years when I was in jail? What about how he let me sit in that chair?! I was about to be executed Jane! But instead of coming out and helping us, maybe preventing Michael from destroying his life to break me out, he did nothing. And all the while he's playing dad to you."

"It's not like that."

"Then explain it to me. Because I don't get it," he said. His expression filled with an anger she saw when she first met him.

"We started off as partners, battling the same cause, working together to right wrongs. And then we spent time together. Then suddenly we became more than friends. We opened up and shared things, stories about our lives. He gave me advise and helped me deal with the most difficult things in my life. We would risk our lives for each other. And in my line of work it isn't easy to find someone you can trust so completely. And that's why he trusted me with you and LJ. Because he and I were like family."

He stared at her, his face riddled with confusion. There was a part of him that wanted to know all about his father, but there was a part of him that was scared. Scared to think that his father wasn't there for him because his father didn't love him enough, because he hadn't earned his father's love. He was the reason his father abandoned them.

"I don't know how to feel about this," he said.

"I know you have resentment toward Aldo. And I understand that. But when my father died, it left a void. I had no one. No family at all. Aldo looked after me, he took care of me when I was breaking down and I needed that. He consoled me, he comforted me. Lincoln if you only knew how much I needed that," she said and tears started to stream down her face. "My father died and I was shattered and Aldo was all the family I had and now he's dead too. I have no one left. No one. Do you know what it's like to go through life and have no one care about? No thanksgivings and Christmases. No one to care if you lived or died?"

Lincoln looked at her and he could feel his heart tearing in 2. He took her in his arms and hugged her tight to his chest.

"I care Jane. I'm sorry I got so upset. I had no right."

He stroked her hair as she cried in his chest. He could feel the pained weakness of her body fall into him and he held her tight, giving her his strength. He gently kissed her on the forehead and rocked her, feeling guilty for having been so selfish as to feel any resentment toward her.

"I promise, it's going to be ok," he said. "I'll be here for you. After all you're like my step-sister," he said with a light laugh, trying to ease her mind and she gave a little laugh in return. "You're not alone Jane. You have me."

They sat on her bed and for a long time they talked and he listened with an open mind and heart as she spoke about Aldo. How Aldo had watched Lincoln and Michael as children, and even took pictures of them which he had shown to Jane. The pain and guilt he felt for leaving his sons behind and how he had hoped to one day bring down the company and become reunited with his family once more.

Lincoln's anger turned into an understanding of his father as he listened to what she said. It gave him a sense of knowing his father. And he was happy that if Aldo wasn't there for him, than at least he was there for her.


	8. Chapter 8

Lincoln sat in the SUV waiting for Jane outside the bank. They had just played the lover's game on their walk through the hotel lobby and back to the car. He could still feel her hand wrapped around his waist, the touch of her neck against his lips. _Stop it._ He shook his head trying to remove the feel of her body against his out of his mind. _Just think of her as a step-sister Lincoln. Get over it._

Then he looked over at the bank and started to get nervous. She was in there for 10 minutes now. What was taking so long? He surveyed the street, constantly checking the rear view mirror. He tapped on the steering wheel, hoping the information they needed to exonerate him was there. But he was more worried for Jane's safety, praying she was alright and he resisted the urge to go after her.

Several more minutes passed and Jane walked out of the bank with a smile on her face and hopped into the car. Lincoln breathed a sigh of relief as he drove off.

"How did it go? Did you get it?" he asked. But what he really wanted to ask her is if she was alright.

Jane slid off the red wig she wore, resembling Sara's hair, slipped off her shades and reached between her legs for the lap top that was lying on the floor of the passenger seat.

"It went well. They bought that I was Sara Tancredi and allowed me access to her father's safe deposit box."

Lincoln looked at the wig as Jane tossed it in the back seat.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked.

"Nothing. You looked good as a red head that's all."

She removed the band from around her head that formed her ponytail and ran he fingers through her hair, shaking it free.

"Why? You don't like my blond hair."

"I didn't say that," he smiled. "I love your blonde hair. I just wasn't sure how you would look with the red wig that's all and quite frankly, I think you look good both ways. But I'm sure you look good no matter what."

"Oh really," she said smiling.

She looked at his strong face and watched it soften into what looked like a blush and she couldn't stop grinning. _Could he be attracted to me, they way I'm attracted to him? Or am I just reading into things_.

Lincoln turned his attention back to the rode, feeling embarrassed. "Well you're an attractive woman. But I'm sure I'm not the first to tell you that," he said, his eyes glued ahead, avoiding eye contact with her. "So what did you find in the bank? Did you get the evidence?"

Suddenly the evidence that had been so important to him on the beginning of this trip had become a distraction, used to avoid feelings that started to brew inside him, feelings he felt he shouldn't have. He wasn't ready for something new, he wasn't ready to turn his back on Veronica. Either way he needed to focus on what was important—the tape.

Jane's expression went from excitement to disappointment as Lincoln's demeanor turned to a 'back to business attitude'. She removed the flash drive from her pocket and waved the flash drive in her hand and Lincoln turned his head to study it.

"Do you think it has what we need?" Lincoln said.

"We'll find out shortly," she replied.

She shoved the flash drive into the laptop and examined the audio tape of Steadman's voice.

"Looks like the proof of Steadman's existence is right here. We got him," she said.

He took a deep breath and continued to drive. "It's almost over."

"You're almost free Lincoln. Before long you and your family will have your life back."

"And what about you?" Again he couldn't help but shift his feelings back to her. Would she disappear into her anti-company world? Would he ever see her again?

"What about me?"

"What about your life? Surely you're not going to continue this."

"It's all I know."

"It's all you KNEW."

"And what am I going to do?"

"I saw a help wanted sign at the grocery store back in Texas," he said laughing.

She playfully slapped him in the arm. "Is that how you see me? As a girl at the checkout counter?"

"Hey, what's wrong with that? It's a living."

"Hardly," she said. "So what are you and your family going to do? Go back to Chicago?" _Go back to Chicago and disappear from my life._

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. I'll be happy just to be able to walk the streets without hiding myself."

"I can imagine."

Then he started to think and a worried look flashed across his face. It hit him like a ton of bricks. It wasn't over.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"What about Michael? The tape will exonerate me, but he robbed a bank. How do we get passed that?"

"Once the truth in unfolded and the world knows what President Reynolds did your family, we can put pressure on the next administration to do the right thing."

"You mean pardon Michael?"

"Yes."

"And what if the next administration are just pawns of the company? Then what? They own everything, every body."

"Not every politician is being financed by the company. We'll just have to wait and see. And in the interim we can hide your brother in Panama or wherever he wants to go."

He sighed. "The only thing I want is for my family to stop suffering. I don't want Michael going back to jail. He can't. He won't survive. Not without me there to protect him."

"So what are you going to do, get yourself arrested so you can take care of him?"

"Maybe," Lincoln replied.

"And what about your son?"

Lincoln slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "It's my job to take care of Michael. Watch out for him…And I keep screwing it up. All I do is mess up his life."

"Relax Lincoln," she said. She could see him putting the weight of the world on his shoulders. "You're being much too hard on yourself. Let's just see how it plays out."

"You don't understand," he said.

"What don't I understand?" she said.

He placed his elbow on the window and rested his hand in it, while driving with his right.

"When mom died, it was my responsibility to take care of him. We didn't have anybody. It was just him and me. I tried to do the best I could. But I was a kid too, what the hell did I know," he looked over at her then back to the road. "We were in and out of foster homes. Some better than others. I would use my fists to make sure none of the other kids bothered my brother, until I became good at fighting. Until it was all I knew how to do…And one day Michael just looked up at me crying. He said he didn't want to live with the others, just him and me. But how was I going to do that? I was only 15 myself…So I did the only thing I could. I dropped out of high school and ran with some neighborhood thugs, running drugs and making money, with the hopes of running away and taking Michael with me."

"Sounds like you had a tough responsibility for someone so young."

"Well, I grew up fast. But then I got busted and was sent to juvie. And I had to leave Michael alone to fend for himself. I was stupid. I shouldn't have gotten busted. It was all my fault."

"Don't be so hard yourself. You were just a teenager with."

"Yeah, but I was always screwing up, always getting in trouble. And it was Michael who paid the price. You see, when I came back from juvie, Michael was so withdrawn, terrified. He thought I left him alone, that I wasn't coming back. Michael was abused while I was away. I didn't know it at the time, but what could I do anyway? I was in juvie. I had abandoned him when he needed me. Ah…The story of my life."

"I'm sure he doesn't see it that way. He knows you did the best you could for him."

"Maybe. But how can I go on living a free life while Michael is hiding in Panama? It would be like abandoning him all over again?"

"So what do you want to do?"

"I'm not leaving Michael behind. If he hides out in Panama, then I'm hiding out too. If he hides in a safe house in Colorado, then that's where I'm living."

"What about your son?"

"We'll live a life wherever Michael is. As long as we're all together. LJ needs family around him. He needs his uncle. I can't separate this family. Not now."

"It's going to be alright," she said rubbing his arm and he turned and smiled at her. A smile that said _I pray that you're right._ And for a minute there, with Jane's touch on his arm, Lincoln thought maybe everything would turn out alright.

Jane could see the struggle in his face. She could hear the emotions running though his voice, talking without thinking of the consequences, reacting on emotion and loyalty. She could see the wheels spinning in his head as he contemplated his choice. To not Abandon Michael versus a normal life for his son. A tough decision she hoped he wouldn't be forced to make for too long.


	9. Chapter 9

Jane pulled over to a gas station. She pulled out her gun from the center compartment, slipped it in the back of her slacks and walked out. After gassing up and getting some food from the convenience store she returned to the SUV and drove off.

She checked the rear view mirror as she had done so many times. Since they left Chicago everything seemed clear, no indication that they were being followed. And as she leaned back the gun bumped against her body and she shifted forward in her seat, removed the gun and placed it back in the center compartment.

Lincoln had already opened a bag of chips and started munching on them as he studied her. He had never seen a woman so adept at handling a gun before. Actually she seemed adept at handling almost any situation and he grinned, thinking she could probably handle him as well. Most men folded under his strength, but Jane looked like a woman who had enough skills to bring him down. And he found the idea very erotic.

"Jane," he said reaching the bag of chips toward her and she grabbed a few. "When we were back in Colorado…when you shot Leon. That wasn't the first person you killed was it?"

"No it wasn't. Why do you ask?" she had an odd look on her face.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging you. Heck, you saved my life, you saved my son's life. It's just…"

"It's just what?"

"It's just I've not shot anyone before…I know I was supposed to shoot Steadman. I was in the garage with a gun, but I never went through with it. Somebody beat me to it that night. I just wonder if…I wonder if I could have done it. I mean I had to get high just to walk in there," he started to stare at the bag of chips.

She studied him, wondering what he was thinking. Did he judge her or just struggling with his own demons?

He turned back to look at her. "I never thought I could just walk up to somebody and shoot them. But there was something in me that was ready to do it. I had no choice."

"Why? Was it to pay off the 90 grand?"

"No," he shook his head. "I wouldn't have killed anyone for money. There are more important things than that…Like my son."

"I don't understand."

"They told me if I didn't off the guy…that they were going to kill my son."

Jane looked at him with compassion. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah. They told me that the guy I was supposed to off was some sleeze, some low-life drug dealer. They never said it was Terrance Steadman. Man, they played me good."

"Killing is a capital offense. Were you concerned about getting caught?"

"Of course. Plus I never killed anyone before and I was scared. But…they were going to kill my son. His life is worth more than mine. I was willing to spend my life in jail if it meant he was safe. LJ was all I could think about."

Jane had studied his face. How had he gotten so caught up in this? Lincoln was definitely a man with a huge heart, but he didn't think things through. His love for his family and his need to put them first, had gotten him in trouble. He borrowed money to save his brother and give him a better life, only to be faced with the prospect of losing his son's life in the process. What a horrific irony.

"So what happened?" she asked.

"Well, I walked into the garage. My mind was all messed. I paused at first, then I was about to walk away. There was no way I was gonna kill someone. Then I kept thinking about my son. They were going to kill my son. So I took out this weed I had. I bought it just to clear my mind."

"Since when does marijuana clear your mind?"

"It doesn't. But I needed to get through it," he paused. "So I see the car and I walk over there with my gun drawn. My hands were shaking and I couldn't feel my feet. I was so numb. But I kept saying, just shoot and walk away. The guy is a low-life drug dealer. Nobody's gonna miss him…But just before I got to the car, before I saw him, there was some doubt…I started to think, maybe I'll just walk away and take my son with me, flee the country. But then again, I was worried that they would find us and kill my son…Then I looked in the car and saw him dead. His head lying on the steering wheel with a bullet hole in his head and I had to look again, focus. Was he really dead?" Lincoln said and took a deep breath.

"Then what?"

"I ran out of there."

"Where you thinking it was a plot to frame you?"

"Nope. I was scared out of my mind. There was a dead body in the car and I was standing there with a gun in my hand. I just wanted to go home and clear my head."

"So what happened when you got home?"

"I had to wash my face with cold water. To wake up from this nightmare…I remember feeling a sense of relief though. I didn't have to kill this guy, somebody had done it for me, so I was off the hook. They would think I did it and my son would be safe. But then I looked and saw the bloody pants in my bathtub and the cops stormed him. It all happened so fast, I could barely think."

"So when did you realize it was a set-up?"

"When my attorney told me about the evidence, my fingerprints on a gun I didn't use. See I dumped the gun I had and it was never found. Then there was the whole business with the bloody clothes in my tub. That's when I started to put it together. But it was too late. They framed me good. The evidence was stacked against me…I just wasn't thinking. I borrowed the 90 grand and look at what happened," he shook his head in disgust.

"If it's any consolation, they would have gotten to you no matter what. The 90 grand just made it easier to control you. But they could have threatened your son at any time."

"I guess. But I still brought it on myself."

"That's the thing about conspiracies. The conspirators have no remorse in what they do to people and how they destroy people's lives. It's the victims that carry the burden of the guilt. They feel responsible for something that, in the end, is out of their control."

"So what are you saying? Let the guilt go and blame it all on the company?"

"Why not?" she said and smiled. "After all they are the ones that devised this plan to begin with. If it wasn't for them, you would have never ended up in the garage to begin with. You wouldn't have been so conflicted between killing a man and saving your son."

He laughed. "That's true. I keep telling Michael not to blame himself for everything that's happened. He broke me out and as a result a lot of people died. And not just by the hands of the company, but from the criminal that escaped with us, T-Bag."

"And here you go blaming yourself…You like playing the martyr don't you," she said smiling.

Lincoln laughed. "It does seem that way sometimes. But no, I would rather be a normal person, living a normal life. Now I just have to figure out how to do that."

"You and me both."

"So what about you? When was the first time you killed someone?"

"You make me sound like a hit woman for hire," she said jokingly.

"I didn't mean too," he said grinning. "I was just curious."

"Well," she said looking straight ahead. "I used to work for the FBI. Only for about 6 months until a friend of mine, this guy I knew…" her voice started to fade. "Well he introduced me to the company,"

"Wo Jane. You knew a guy. And here I thought you had no male friends," he said teasingly.

Jane blushed a little.

"I think I hit a nerve," Lincoln said. "So what was this guy like?"

"Lincoln," she said and shook her head.

"Ohhh, now I have to know. So were you and this guy more than friends?" Lincoln said, very curious what her taste in men were.

Lincoln studied her as she bit her lower lip. Must be a nervous habit she had when avoiding a sensitive subject.

"I thought you wanted to know when I first killed someone."

"Not anymore."

She bit her lower lip again and he found himself drawn to her mouth. She turned to look at him and caught him looking at her lips and this time he blushed, turning his head toward the road than back at her.

"So are you going to tell me about him?" Lincoln asked.

"Why do you want to hear about some guy I fell in love with?" she asked.

Then suddenly he felt a pang of jealousy. Jane had been in love. Why did it bother him? He had fallen in love with a woman also. And he was still in love with that same woman. So why should he care about her past love?

"I don't mean to pry," Lincoln said. "You don't have to tell me." Truth be told, Lincoln wasn't sure he wanted to hear it now.

"It's alright. The short story, he was a nice guy. We had a great time and it ended. I guess all good things come to an end," she said solemnly. _One way or another they come to an end._

"Was he with you when you made your first kill?" Lincoln asked, changing the subject, avoiding her love life.

"My first kill!? The way you make that sound."

"You know what I mean," he said grinning.

"Yeah I know. No he wasn't with me," Jane said. She too was happy the conversation shifted to something she could handle talking about. "I had been in the bureau for like 4 months, I was on a case. We were making a bust on some warehouse owned by this syndication."

"You're talking about a warehouse owned by the mob?"

"Yes. The crime boss wasn't there, just some of his underlings….So we enter the warehouse and guns went off. This guy had a gun on my partner and was about to kill him when I shot him in the chest."

"Where you scared?"

"Well, I've hunted animals before, so I've killed prior to this incident. But killing a man is a whole different matter. I had a lot of emotions running through me. I had the adrenaline of the moment and I basically acted on instinct to save my partner. But afterwards….when I had time to think. I kept seeing the man fall to the ground. I kept hearing my gun go off….It's odd…Time really does stand still. To this day I can remember killing him. I remember it so vividly," she looked at Lincoln. "I guess the first one stays with you."

"And now? Has it gotten easier?"

"Yes it does. Not because I've gotten used to killing a person, but because I know why I'm doing it. I have a cause and I fight for it. I fight for innocent people, like you."

"Like when you killed Leon and saved my life."

"Exactly. I won't lose sleep over that one."

"Believe me, I'm grateful. I'm glad you saved my life."

"Me too," she said and they both looked at each other and smiled.


	10. Chapter 10 Veronica

Jane had finished taking a shower. She was wearing her beige slip as she did every night on this journey. She sat nestled under the covers scanning the TV stations when she found an old black and white film. She turned up the volume just enough to muffle out the sounds of the shower running.

By this time tomorrow, they would be back in the safe house in Texas, back with Lincoln's family and she couldn't help feel a sense of sadness. This short time with Lincoln had given her more than she had hoped. At first it was just a trip to retrieve data, but for her it had turned into something more. For the first time in a long time she had met someone she could really talk to. Not about a mission or idle conversation, but a sharing of thoughts and feelings. She met someone she could be herself around. And it didn't hurt that he was attractive also. He had beautiful eyes and a masculine physiche. And his lips were so soft and tender.

Jane touched her lips as she recalled the way he kissed her in the elevator of the hotel. There was so much passion in his kisses and she wished it were real and not some ploy to get him safely unrecognized into the room. She shook her head. _I have to stop thinking like this. I'll only get hurt._

But when she heard the shower stop, she found herself propping her body while she sat and slipping the covers down a bit, showing off more of her curves, hoping he would notice her.

The door opened and Lincoln stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waste. She turned to look at him and her eyes subtly combed his body before she turned her attention back to the TV.

And as Lincoln stood there, he looked in her direction. He could see her shape take form under her flesh colored slip, her long hair seductively draped across 1 shoulder. _Stop it Lincoln. Jane's been very helpful. Don't take advantage._ Plus he was a man who had just lost the woman he had loved his entire life, making a pass at Jane would feel like he was turning his back on Veronica and all that he felt for her. Lust and guilt riddled his mind once again. He shook it off and walked over to his bed. He put on his jeans, sat on the bed and, like Jane, he turned his attention to the TV.

"What are you watching? Lincoln asked.

"Wuthering Heights," she said.

She turned to look at him. But his shirtless body made her breathless so she went back to watching the television.

In the past Lincoln hadn't been too fond of black and white movies of any kind. But 3 years in jail had made him less picky. Anything was better than staring at prison walls.

"Looks like some kind of love story," he said.

"It is. It's one of the classics."

"I didn't take you for the romantic movie type."

"I'm not. I usually go for action movies. But this is an exception."

"I prefer action movies as well. Although right now it doesn't much matter to me anymore. I'll watch anything. But in the past though, romance movies just didn't do it for me. Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Then they live happily ever after. It's all a bunch of bull," Lincoln said. His life had been anything but what romance movies show. He looked at Jane. "I guess I never believed in happy endings."

"Neither do I," she said seriously.

"Then why are you watching this?"

She grinned. "You've never heard of this movie before have you?"

"No. Why?"

"It doesn't have a happy ending."

"Why? Boy doesn't get girl?"

"Girl dies," she said.

_Girl dies._ Those words cut right through him. He took a deep breath as memories of Veronica flooded his mind. He had tried to suppress the pain, but he couldn't. _Girl dies._

"I guess there are some things I don't want to watch after all. Can we watch something else?" His voice was solemn.

"Sure," she said and switched over to a sitcom. "Is there something wrong?"

"It's nothing," he said then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. _Girl dies._

"Lincoln what's wrong?" she asked and turned off the TV. She could tell by his expression that his thoughts were filled with a deep sadness. "Lincoln?"

"I feel like everything has gone wrong." He sighed.

"We have the disk."

"I know…and that's a good thing. But then what?"

"We'll work that out. You have your son."

"I know. But it's…It's so hard to believe…I'm this close to being free and yet, I…Life will never be the same."

"No it won't. But there's hope."

"Is there?"

"I know it doesn't help Michael at the moment, but in the long run it explains his actions and that could go a long way to pardoning him. But, you'll be free. You and your son won't have to hide anymore."

"That's true, but my freedom has come with such a cost." He turned to look at her. "I guess I was hoping for something more."

"Like what?"

"Like happily ever after. Like what you see in the movies…A life that could have been," his voice trailed.

"Are you thinking of Ms. Donavan?" Jane asked. She knew that Lincoln had a past relationship with his attorney and that she had disappeared, which in her experience only meant one thing—death. Did he know she was missing? Was he looking for her? She studied his expression.

"Yes," he said.

He looked up at her. Till this day he had not spoken of Veronica in detail, keeping his pain locked up, hoping that anger would muffle the ache he carried in his heart. But holding it in had done him damage and he needed to talk about it and Jane had been such a good listener. She had a warm spirit about her and Lincoln felt compelled to share with her what he couldn't share with anyone else.

Jane could see he was deeply tormented by Veronica's fate. And she understood his pain. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved. She got up and sat next to him on the bed.

"If you want to talk about her. I'm a good listener," she said and smiled. She gently touched his thigh in a compassionate and understanding manner.

He looked at her. "I know you are. And I need to talk about it. I can't keep holding it in. I'm trying to be strong, but it's killing me."

She removed her hand from his thigh and gave him a reassuring smile. "Take your time. We have all night."

The room was dim, only the lamp on the nightstand lit the air.

Lincoln took a deep breath and paused before he spoke. His voice was heavy and his face was strained. And it hurt her to see him this way.

"When I first got of prison, after the escape, all I could think about was finding a way to meet up with Veronica. I didn't know if she heard what happened. If she saw it on the news or heard it on the radio. But I knew she would be worried and I wanted so desperately to find her. To get to her…I had a cell phone on me and I called her. And when she answered, my god, I thought everything would be alright. Just hearing her voice on the phone was huge. She told me to give my self up & that Steadman was alive. It was a shock and I was just trying to put it all together. I started to feel hope, that my life would finally come together. That maybe good things could happen to me." He took a deep breath and paused. "So here I am talking to the woman I love & she's telling me that she's with Steadman…Then she said these words to me, words I'll never forget. She said…" He took another deep breath. His heart was pounding and his face scrunched up in agony, as he relieved Veronica's final moments. "She said, '_I don't want to lose you'."_

Lincoln gasped and closed his eyes. His face filled with anguish that was unmistakable. It was one of loss, of utter desolation. Like his life had been drained from his body, like a piece of his soul had been torn away.

He opened his eyes and stared at Jane. And she could see them filling up with tears as he struggled to hold them inside, keep them prisoner as he fought to keep his pain locked up.

"And that was the last thing she ever said to me," he said. Lincoln pressed his fingers to the corner of his eyes as he wiped the tears away, then he breathed out—1 long deep breath. Jane could see his chest heaving as if he were struggling for air. "Then I heard 3 shots fired from a gun. And my world came to an end. They killed her and I heard it all."

"My God Lincoln. That's horrible," she said.

Jane was familiar with that mode of kill. 3 shots fired from a gun meant 2 to the heart and 1 to the head. She also knew that if Veronica was professionally killed then her body was disposed of in a neat but horrific way. But she had no intention of telling Lincoln. He didn't need to know those kinds of details.

"She didn't deserve to die. Not her. She didn't do anything wrong. I should be dead not her… I had so many chances with Veronica and I just kept blowing it. And now I'll never have the chance to make it up to her. "

"Make what up to her?"

"Everything... Before I went to jail we had split up a few years earlier. I really messed things up with her….We were childhood sweethearts," he said with a pained smile. "I remember the first time I saw her. She had just moved into my neighborhood. I was riding my bike and she was standing in the yard. I remember her smiling at me. She was a cute girl…

"The next time I saw her was in the school bus. She had just transferred to our school and she seemed lost. I guess being the new kid in school and not knowing anyone wasn't much fun for her. So I spoke to her on the bus. And then over time we became friends. Her mom and mine talked and became friendly and before long they were babysitting. So the three of us, me, Mike and V, had become good friends over the years…It's strange, when you're a kid you think nothing bad could happen. You think it's always going to be good."

"And then we grow up," Jane added.

"Exactly. But for me I had to grow up faster than most. Mom's death changed all that...And I guess I changed too," Lincoln said and Jane gave him an acknowledging grin. "So me and V started dating in high school. She was a year behind me. But soon afterwards, I dropped out of school."

"That's when you started selling drugs?"

"Yep. I guess it went downhill from there. She didn't seem to care though. She was as hooked on me as I was on her. But then time passed and she went to college. She wanted to be a lawyer. And I was so proud of her, but I was scared too. I thought if she left for school I was never going to see her again. I figured she would hook up with some college guy and dump me, after all I was nothing. I was a high school drop out. What could I offer her? So she left for college and a few months passed and she hadn't come home and the phone calls stopped. And I just figured she found someone else, someone better than me. So one day I got frustrated. I missed her and she was gone. So I went to this bar in Chicago and met this chick named Lisa. We hit it off and she got pregnant."

"Did you love Lisa?"

"Not really. I liked her, but she was more like a rebound for me. She was my way of getting over Veronica."

"But you never did."

"No. It only made things worse. When V came back for the summer, I told her that Lisa was pregnant and she was angry at me. And I can't blame her. All I do is mess things up."

"So then what?"

"Time passed and V graduated from college and then law school. She would come home on the holidays or breaks and we were friendly the few times we saw each other. I would hear about how she was doing from Michael. He saw her more than I did. I was living with Lisa and my son. But things didn't work between us. I was still hung up on V and no matter how much I tried to make it work with Lisa I couldn't. I just couldn't make her happy. I guess she knew I was pretending to feel more than I did."

"Well you tried to do the right thing."

"But with me, even the right thing is the wrong thing."

"Don't do that Lincoln. Don't sell yourself short. Nobody's perfect. We all make mistakes. You just need to know that you're better than what you think you are. And if you don't believe it, then believe me. Believe your brother, believe your son."

He stared into her soft blue eyes. They were compassionate but strong at the same time.

"You do have a way about you Jane," he said and smiled.

Jane hated when Lincoln went into his self-deprecation. Sure he made mistakes but it didn't help to harbor on them and let them fester inside you. That would do more damage. You make a mistake, you feel negative about yourself. That negativity makes you make another mistake and so on. It seemed Lincoln lived in this vicious cycle and she just wished she could pull him out of him. Make him realize the potential for happiness he could have in his life. He lost Veronica, but he had his brother and his son and there was a chance for him to have a better life.

Strangely enough, Jane could see the potential in Lincoln's life, but she struggled to see the potential in hers.

"You're right Jane, I did try and do the right thing. It just didn't work out. Lisa was a good mother too. I didn't get to see LJ full time after the break-up. Just on the weekends and I did try and make the most of it. I wish I was there for him more. I feel like the weekends just wasn't enough, like I wasn't a good father. But I guess I was there for him even though I wasn't physically there for him everyday."

"That's better," she said.

"Ok, so I'm not a total mess up, just a partial mess up," he said smiling.

"You're getting there Lincoln. Just try and be positive and good things will happen for you."

"I'll work on it."

"So now that you and Lisa were no longer together, what happened between you and Veronica?"

"Well, she went to law school and in her final year she came back home for Christmas and we talked. It was a good talk. She was hurt about me getting Lisa pregnant. She was hoping that she would be the one to give me children. But she met LJ and no matter how hurt she was, she couldn't resist the little boy."

"He was a charmer even back then," she said.

"A little lady killer," he said proudly. "So me and V got back together after she graduated. Things were good for a while and then one day I went to see her after work. She was working in this small law firm in Chicago. I wanted to ask her to marry me. I was so nervous. I got what little money I had to buy her a ring. It wasn't a big ring."

"I don't think she would have cared about that. When you love someone things like that don't matter."

"Maybe not, but it mattered to me. You see I went by her office that Friday night to pick her up and I saw her talking to one of her lawyer friends. This good looking guy in a suit. She introduced me to him and he spoke well, like a lawyer. He was stylish and upper class. The type she should end up. And I started to feel…"

"Inadequate? Not good enough?"

He grinned. "Yep. I guess that whole negative thing came back and bit me in the ass."

She shook her head. "Lincoln."

"I know what you're thinking and you're right. I should have asked her to marry me. She loved me even though I wasn't the model guy. I dropped out of high school. I was arrested a couple of times. And through all that she was there in the end. But I let her go. I dumped her instead of asking her to marry me. I guess I thought I was doing the right thing, letting her find something better. Now I wonder if I did marry her, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe things would have been different."

"It's difficult to say. The company wanted your father. It didn't matter if you were married or not. They came after you to get him."

He rubbed his head and reflected. "I've been wondering this for a while and I think you're right. In the end the company wanted to get to my father through me. There was probably not much I can do to change that. I made it easier, sure. But they would have come into our lives one way or another." He looked at her and smiled. "Thank you for helping me see that."

"You're welcome."

He leaned his head against the wall. "The thing is, I never had a life with her." His voice trailed. He swallowed hard. "I was running for my life the day of the escape and all I could think about was calling her. And when I called her I just kept imaging what it would feel like to hold her in my arms. To feel her body against mine. To look into those eyes. But I never got the chance… I never got the chance to tell her I was sorry for everything. To explain why I ended things with her…" His voice cracked. "I never got the chance to tell her that I loved her." He looked down and paused. "Everything happened so fast that I never got to say goodbye to her. All I have are her last words and the sound of gunfire…There's no closure to be had. I don't even have a body to bury."

"I can't imagine what that must feel like."

"It's hard. Every day I live with it. But at the same time I don't. I block it out. Or maybe I don't block it out, but I bury it. I bury it in hate and anger…I'm always angry Jane."

"That's understandable. They took her from you. You have every right to be angry."

"I know. But my son needs me to be there for him. I try to put up a front. But it's just hard. I don't think I'll ever get past it."

"I can't help you with that one," she said. "I still feel angry about the losses in my life…Maybe it's just easier to hold on to the anger then to let go and move on."

"I guess we both have to learn how to do that," he said.

"Maybe we can help each other."

"Maybe we can."


	11. Chapter 11

It was early morning as Lincoln drove the SUV. The night before had been somewhat of catharsis for him. Opening up about Veronica was something he hadn't expected to do. But it felt good to talk about her with someone who wasn't close to the situation, someone who hadn't felt the loss as well. It gave him the chance to say the things he needed to say without worrying about the pain that someone like Michael or LJ would feel as they listened. He didn't have to be strong or tough. He didn't need to put on a false demeanor, shielding those he loved from his own hurt. Maybe someday he would find the courage to share his thoughts and feelings about his pain with them, but he wasn't ready and quite frankly he didn't know how.

The road was clear as he drove. There was very little traffic. If things continued this way they would get back to the safe house tonight quicker than he had expected. But he wasn't anxious to get back. He enjoyed being in Jane's company and wished they had one more day together. Was he being selfish for not wanting to rush back to his family? Was it wrong to want to enjoy more time with Jane?

And what about Jane? Would she stay with them for awhile or run off to join the spy game? And why should he even care?

When he met her she ran him off the road. He couldn't wait to be free of her. And now all he wanted to do was spend more time with her. None of this made any sense. Was it because he had been away from women for 3 years and longed for the company of a beautiful woman? Or was there something about her, something that made her stand out and made him take notice?

Did the reasons really matter? All Lincoln knew was that being with her felt good. Somehow it felt right. Again he was confused, struggling with his guilt and his own personal desires. Either way he knew he needed more time to get to know her.

He looked over at Jane. "So what now?"

She gave him a puzzling look. "What do you mean?"

"What are you going to do? Are you going back to the anti-company?"

"Well, that's what I do," she replied.

"But why? Why did you even join the company to begin with? Look at what they do. Why would you get involved in an organization like that?"

She laughed. "Lincoln, it's not like I knew what they were really about. I was working for the FBI and my friend…"

"The guy you were in love with?"

"Yes," she said. "He was recruited by the company. See, they recruited some FBI agents. He was the top of our class. He was great with a gun. Could shoot accurately from a farther range than I could. I was third in our class…So after they recruited him, he recruited me. The company doesn't tell you upfront what they do. But I learned that they have more power than the FBI, which was very appealing at the time."

"So it's like a step up from the FBI."

"You can say that... So I was intrigued. I thought I was defending our country in the best way I could. But then after some time I found out that they had their own agenda. And people I knew started to disappear. Then I learned some things. I realized that their power was corrupted by greedy men who wanted their own power. So I left and joined the anti-company. Fighting against everything they stood for. So you see Lincoln, it's not like I'm a bad girl turn rogue. I didn't leave the company because I didn't like how I was treated or that the benefits weren't good. I left because I didn't like what they stood for."

"I didn't mean it that way. I never saw you as a bad girl," he said then he started to feel frustrated. He didn't mean to offend her past, he was more interested in her future. The conversation was going in the opposite direction and he needed to turn it around. "But what are you going to do now?" he asked again. "Do you really want to go back to the anti-company? Do you really want to keep fighting?"

"Like I said before, it's what I do."

"That sounds like a cop out," he blurted not meaning to sound harsh, but he was not one to mince words and time was running out on their little journey. Desperation started to seep in.

"Tell me how you really feel," she said joking.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to offend you."

"I know," she said grinning. "But please don't tell me to be a check-out girl at the supermarket again," she said jokingly.

"I'm sure you have other skills," he looked at her. "You know martial arts, right?"

"I'm a 3rd degree black belt in Judo."

"You can teach Judo."

"I don't know Lincoln. I haven't thought that far ahead. I'm a woman living in a world without a home, without family, without ties. I guess, the world is open to me. But where would I go?"

Jane looked at Lincoln as he studied the road. _Lincoln, tell me to go with you and I'll go. We've just met and yet I feel like I know you. You're the only man that has made me feel in such a long time. It may work out with us, it may not, but I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Tell me to go with you and I'll go. I know it sounds crazy, but I'll take that chance with you, what else do I have? I have nothing, no one. Tell me to go with you and I'll go. _

Jane's words rang in his head. _Where would I go?_ His first instinct was to say, _Come with me._ But that was silly. How could he ask her that? She would think he was mad and maybe he was. It was irrational. But irrational seemed to be his middle name. Always acting without thinking things through. But that got him in trouble. And he couldn't offer her anything except more trouble, because that's what he was good at.

He took a deep breath before choosing his words. Before being his irrational self. "Like you said, you can go anywhere. But I hope…" he said and turned to look at her "that you would at least stay in touch with us. You're kind of like family now."

"You mean like a step-sister," she said, trying to read his mind.

"Yeah, exactly."

Their eyes met and he could feel himself getting sucked into those beautiful blues. Then his eyes wandered to her mouth. _ah…those lips Jane. You're killing me._ He turned his attention back to the road.

"Plus," he said. "I'm sure Michael and my son will want to get to know you better. After all, you know a lot about the old man and I'm sure they would like to hear about him."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear, but she smiled and pretended like she wasn't disappointed. "Sure, I would like to get to know your family better also."

"So does this mean that you're not going to run off and join the anti-company then?"

"I don't know. The anti-company exists to fight against the company and maybe by bringing down Reynolds, we are one step closer to doing that."

"Let someone else fight for awhile. You've done enough. Give the information to one of the Senators that are working for the anti-company and let them handle it."

"I would like to see it through."

"But what if the company doesn't come crashing down? What if the company finds a way to disassociate themselves with Reynolds? Then what? You can't keep this up forever." _Jane don't go. We have so much unfinished business._

"I understand what you're saying. But I need to evaluate my options. And I don't really have a lot right now." _Lincoln I don't have anything. Give me something to live for instead of something to die for._

"You make it sound like you don't have a choice," Lincoln said.

"I feel like I don't."

"Every decision you make is a choice. If you don't want to live fighting all the time then don't."

"You make it sound easy."

"Jane," he said and turned to her. "Life is too short to be unhappy. So the question is, are you happy doing what you do?"

She looked down, trying to figure out how to answer that question. She had lived with hate and anger for so long that it had become a part of her. It had grown on her like a second skin and she didn't know how to shed that, especially on her own.

"It's not a hard question," he said. "You're either happy or you're not."

"I don't know."

"I'll take that as a No."

"What do you think I should do?"

"I already told you. I think you should retire from the spy game. It doesn't suit you."

"And how would you know?"

He shook his head and grinned. He really didn't know. He just knew he didn't want her to walk away from him. It seemed as though they had opened up a can of worms. Feelings started to brew inside and he needed to know if there was something more or just the emptiness of his heart filling his mind with unrealistic thoughts, with a hope he didn't deserve to have. Plus he enjoyed talking to her. Without her he didn't have anyone to share his thoughts with. Was he being selfish? Probably. But she wasn't happy living this way. And he wasn't happy at all.

"I guess I really don't know. But from the short time we've spend together I see a lot of goodness in you and I would hate for something bad to happen to you. I just feel like you should be happy, that you should settle down with someone and have a chance at a real life. You owe it to yourself to have something more than hate and anger. And plus," he turned to look at her, "I like it when you smile."

She broke out in a smile as she looked at him.

"See, the smile suits you," he said. "I like it better than the serious all-business look you had when we first met. And maybe when you leave the spy game you'll smile more often."

"You think so, huh," she said grinning.

"Oh absolutely. You're unhappy doing what you're doing. So why not give it up and risk being happy. Then you can smile all the time."

"Well how can I say No then," she said jokingly. "So," she said studying Lincoln, "How do I find this knight in shining armor that's going to keep me smiling?"

"I don't know. But you're attractive. I'm sure it wouldn't be hard."

"You don't know anyone I could meet?"

"I wouldn't introduce you to anyone I know. They're not good enough for you. Although my brother has better friends. Intelligent, successful. Or we can just get you a male order husband," he said jokingly and smiled.

"That'll work. Why didn't I think about that," she said laughing.

"Either way, I just hope you'll do something else besides going after the company. And if you need any help settling down, and getting acclimated to a life without fighting, I'll help you. After all we're sort of like family now and that's what family does—they help each other."

"I'd like that," she said.


	12. Chapter 12

It was late afternoon and they had less than 3 hours of driving left. But as Jane looked up she could see the night sky closing in on them. She checked the clock on the radio—it was only 4pm, too early for darkness to fall.

Lincoln looked out the passenger window and squinted. The surface of the clouds showed thick patches of grey. He looked harder, trying to decipher them when suddenly heavy rain came pouring down on them. Heavy winds whipped hard against the SUV.

Jane turned on the headlights and put the windshield wipers on high. She leaned closer to the glass, trying to see but the rains covered the windshield and she had to slow down.

"Are you alright?" Lincoln asked as he watched Jane struggle to see.

"I'm fine," she said her voice was flushed.

Then the sky erupted with lightening, a lightening so intense that the whole area lit up. It was followed by a thunderous roar and Jane uneasily shifted in her sit. The thunder and lightening was almost rhythmic and it came so fast, each sound followed shortly by another and another. Jane took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel so hard that her hands turned red, the leather forming grooves against her palms.

Lincoln studied her. It was obvious that she was nervous.

"Let me drive Jane."

"What, you don't think a woman can handle a little rain," she said, trying to joke but she was obviously distressed.

"It's not that. I know you can handle yourself," he said reassuringly. "I just want to help you out that's all."

She forced a smile. "I'm fine. Thank you."

"Ok, but if you change your mind, let me know."

She shook her head but her eyes were glued to the road. And as Lincoln looked out the passenger window again he could see the dark grey patches turning even darker. They started to take shape.

"Jane is that what I think it is?"

Jane strained to see through the water covered windshield and she started to see them also.

"Oh no," she said.

Lincoln reached over and turned on the radio, switching to a news station. North Texas had 3 tornados brewing. But they hadn't touched down yet, presently existing as cones.

Jane's eyes affixed on the cones to the right side of the road as she drove at a snail's pace. The road twisted left and it gave her a sigh of relief. They were heading in the opposite direction of the tornados. But the sky still erupted with thunder. She lessened her grip on the wheel. If they were heading in the opposite direction then maybe it wouldn't be too long before they rode it out.

Lincoln was concerned about Jane. Not because he didn't have faith in her driving, but because she was visibly terrified. He had never seen this side of her. He rubbed her arm tenderly.

"Let me drive."

"I'll be alright," she said and looked at him, managing a smile.

But he could see right through it. She was trying to be strong, but she looked like she was falling apart before his very eyes. He turned to a music station, hoping it would calm her down.

"I think we're driving away from them," she said. But almost as soon as she said that the road twisted right, heading toward the cones. She bit her lower lip and her hand gripped tight against the steering wheel once more. The winds pushed the SUV around the road, lightening filled the air.

"We can't keep driving like this," Lincoln said. "If these tornados touch down we're in big trouble."

He looked out and saw an exit sign.

"Take this exit Jane. Maybe we can get a place to stay till this thing blows over."

They exited the highway and followed signs for a motel. The parking lot was full and she pulled over to the entrance.

"I'll get us a room," she said.

Lincoln reached toward the back seat. "Jane," he yelled out but she had already left the SUV. He had his jacket in his hand and wanted to offer it to her but she ran out too quickly. He stood up, his back hunched over and he crossed over into the driver's seat.

The rain showered Jane as she jogged to the motel entrance. Her hair and clothes were drenched. Water had seeped down to her bra.

"I need a room," she said.

"Sorry ma'am, but we're all filled up. Looks like everybody's trying to get out of the storm."

"Do you know of any other motels in the area?"

"There's 2 about a mile down the road," he said and wrote down directions.

Then the lights started blinking on and off. Both Jane and the man looked up and then the lights went out.

"Looks like we got a black out ma'am."

She grabbed the directions, balled them up into her hand and ran outside. Lightening filled the air and she shuddered, wrapping her arms around her. She saw the SUV pull up and she hopped into the passenger sit.

Lincoln just looked at her. She was shivering and wet.

"Here," he said and handed her his jacket. "You ran out before I could give it to you."

"Thanks," she said and wrapped it around her. "The motel is full, but I have directions to 2 motels down the road."

Jane reached into her glove compartment and pulled out a tiny pink flashlight about 4 inches long.

"Pink?" Lincoln said amusingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hey, what's wrong with pink?" she said smiling.

"Nothing," he said half laughing.

Lincoln turned on the high beams as he drove, following Jane's directions. They pulled into a motel to their right. The sign was out, since there was no electricity in the area. Jane grabbed his jacket, pulled it over her head and ran in. This motel was filled up also. Within the last half hour, people had come in to rent rooms to get away from the storm.

She came back to the car. "We have 1 motel left. Let's hope they have a room."

Across the street about a block away they spotted the motel. Jane ran into the front office.

"Please tell me you have a room," she said panting.

"Looks like it's your lucky day, cause sure enough I got a room."

"Thanks you," she said flushed and exhausted.

He handed her the key. "It's a no smoking room with a king sized bed."

"King sized? Do you have any rooms with double beds?"

"No ma'am I don't."

Jane looked worried. They had always slept in rooms with separate beds. Then the door opened and Jane turned to see a couple standing there drenched. She turned back to the man.

"I'll take it," Jane said. She knew if she didn't then this couple would, leaving her no choice but to try and survive sleeping in the car. She then returned to the car.

"We got the last room Lincoln," she said out of breath.

Lincoln scanned parking lot. It was so full that they would have to park far from the room.

"I'll drop you off out front," he said.

"It's ok, let's stick together," she insisted.

He parked the car and she walked over to the trunk. Suddenly golf-sized hail rained upon them, bouncing off the car. One hit her in the arm.

She proceeded to try and fit the key in the trunk.

"Jane, let's get out of here."

"But we have to get our bags."

"Forget the bags," he said as a ball of hail nearly hit him. "Let's go."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her tight to his body. He raised his jacket above their heads and she slipped her arm around his waist as they walked quickly to the motel room and rushed in.

She tried to flick the lights on, but the electricity was still out. She pulled out her pink flashlight and turned it on. She flashed it across the room and both stood there staring at the king-sized bed that centered the room.

"This is the only room they had," she said as if reading his concern.

Lincoln tried not to think about the bed. "We need to get out of our clothes, before we get sick."

Using the tiny flashlight they made their way to the closet. Her hair was dripping all over the carpet.

"I'll get us some towels," she said.

She wrung her hair out in the sink and brought out a few towels for them to dry off. But when she returned she found him standing in his boxers, his muscular frame just inches from her and she nearly gasped at the sight. His clothes were hung up in the closet.

"Even my socks were wet," he said trying to break the tension. And she smiled.

She handed him a towel and he dried off, while she removed her clothes. He turned his back and when she was ready he turned to see her wrapped in a towel. He looked to see her bra and panties on a hanger. He wrapped the towel around him and removed his boxers, hanging them up as well.

Lincoln walked over to the bed, picked up a pillow and tossed it on the floor.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm sleeping on the floor."

"Don't be ridiculous. We're adults. We can share the bed."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

Without electricity they couldn't use the television to keep them company. So they both slipped under the covers and used the tiny flashlight which lay between them to offer some light.

There was an awkwardness to the situation. Both lay there naked under the sheets, so close together. And neither knew what to see say. Moments passed as they both looked at each other. Then he gently picked up a few strands of her wet hair and ran his fingers through them with a warm smile across his face.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"I'm just thinking about how lucky you'll make some guy one day Jane."

"And what about you?" But what she was really asking was what about us.

"What about me?" he said knowing what she meant.

"What would make YOU happy?"

"I don't know right now. I'm still…" he gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand then pulled away. "I'm still grieving Jane. It's hard for me to think that far ahead." He sighed. "Plus, I'm not exactly a good catch. I can't offer," he paused, "anyone anything but baggage." And as he spoke he said the word 'anyone' to signify the word 'you'.

He could see the disappointment in her face. He wanted to pull her in his arms and make love to her. The look in her eyes, the longing he saw in them for the first time, nearly weakened his resolve. But she was too good a person to be a rebound for a love he had just recently lost. If only it was another time, another place. If only he still didn't carry the burden of guilt.

"We all have baggage Lincoln, including me."

"Yeah, but I have more than most. Even if I was ready to move on, I don't know if I can make anyone happy."

"Isn't that up to the woman to decide whether you're the right choice?" Both knew the woman she spoke of was Jane.

"Maybe. But I'll be doing some future a girl a favor." His eyes studying her.

"Why do you keep doing that? Why do you keep putting yourself down like that? I thought you were working on that," she said frustrated.

"I am, I really am, it's just a hard habit to break."

"What made you this way?"

"Is this psychoanalyst time?"

"Yes, it is," she replied sternly. "You owe me that," she blurted out.

But Lincoln knew she was right. He was turning down this moment with her and she needed to know why he was so self-destructive.

"You're right," he said and thought for a moment. He lay on his back and reflected. "I owe you an explanation…I guess it all stems from my youth. But I guess most of our insecurities do….It's about the last time I saw my father."

"You mean when he died?"

"No, I mean when I was kid. When I was 4 years old," Lincoln said. He spoke with a deliberateness as he thought back to a painful childhood moment. "You see I always thought that he left because of me."

"That's not true."

"I know that now. At least my mind does. My heart is still filled with doubt." The burden of his childhood insecurities carried a 30 year long burden on his heart.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well remember I told you he took me to a baseball game?"

"Yes."

"Well I didn't tell you the whole story. And I think you need to know. I think it's important for you to understand why I feel the way I do about myself." _It's important for us._

"You mean the self-deprecation, the negativity."

"Yes…You see after the game was over, me and the old man walked out into the hallway. I remember there were so many people. It was so crowded. And I saw these stuffed animals. You know the kind with the baseball jersey," he said and half laughed in reflection. "Well I wanted to see them. So I made my way through the crowd. I was pushing my way. I was so small and everybody was so big. So I crossed over and started looking at them. I turned to tell my dad that I wanted one but he wasn't there. I couldn't see him. So I walked around looking for him but I never found him. There were people everywhere. I remember crying. I was so lost and scared. Where was he? Where was my dad? Then finally a woman found me crying and took me somewhere. It must have been the lost and found. I was there for a long time. Or maybe I wasn't. I was a kid. What did I know about time? All I knew was that I couldn't find my dad. And then my father comes and I was so happy to see him. But he was so angry. He took me to the car and started yelling at me that I shouldn't have run away. But I was a kid. I wanted to see the bears…I just remember him being so angry…

"Then we got home and I went to my room and cried. I know my parents got into an argument. I don't know what it was about. I didn't hear them. I buried my head under the pillow and cried. And when I woke up my dad was gone. He left us. I never saw him again. And I always thought it was because of me. Because I was a bad boy."

"Oh Lincoln, that's not true. He left because he had to. He was probably terrified. He thought you were taken, kidnapped."

"I know that now, but at the time I didn't know. I was a kid. I didn't know about the company and that we were in danger and he left to keep us safe. All I knew was that I made him angry and he left us, he left me."

Even in the darkness, with just a glimmer of light, she could see the pain in his eyes. She longed to comfort him. Jane moved closer to Lincoln. She rested her head on his chest and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tight to his body. She gave him a tender kiss on his chest and he closed his eyes, enjoying the intimacy of the moment but refraining from taking it further.


	13. Chapter 13

Jane slept comfortably on Lincoln's chest, her soft rhythmic breaths touching his skin. It had been so long since he had a moment like this, the sweetness of a woman's touch, the calmness of a tender moment. And as he softly stroked her hair, he yearned for more than just a simple touch, and the realization that Jane was developing feelings for him in return, tempted him to take this platonic relationship to another level. But his respect for her kept him from denying his desires. It was all happening so fast, a rush of feelings flooded his body and he feared that in the end he would end up hurting her. And she deserved more than a man who had lost so much so soon and couldn't grasp his own feelings. She deserved more than a man who may someday succumb to his own guilt and push her away. Lincoln needed time to think and do the right thing. He slid his hand along her arms and pulled her tight to his body, enjoying the feeling of this moment if only for one night. Then closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

It was the middle of the night and both were sound asleep when another hail storm pounded against the window. Jane was rudely awakened by the sound. She jerked her body up, leaning against his chest, his arm slipping off her body, which woke him up.

The sky lit up and the thunder worsened. She sat up, covering her body with the sheets.

He gently ran his hand along her back then sat up alongside her.

"What's wrong?" he asked concerned.

She was breathing heavily, staring at the lightening as it penetrated the sides of the curtains.

"Jane?"

"I'm ok," she said.

"You don't seem ok," he said to her but she still had her back to him. "Jane look at me," he said.

She took a deep breath and turned to him. He put his hands on her shoulders. He could feel the tenseness in them.

"Let me get some light," he said and reached over to the night table and got the pink flashlight. He turned it on and placed it on the bed. The thunder roared and this time he could see her worry.

"Ok Jane, there's obviously something wrong. Please tell me."

"I…" she shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to dump my problems on you."

"After everything we've through," he said sympathetically. "By now you must know you can tell me anything." He rubbed her arm. "I'm here for you no matter what. So please tell me."

She looked into his eyes. They were soft and understanding and she could see how worried he was.

"It's nothing Lincoln really. I just had a bad dream."

"I think I know you better than that. You're not a woman to be startled by a nightmare. Talk to me. Please."

She just looked at him with painful eyes.

"Lay down Jane," he said and gently pushed her down and into his arms. "Whatever it is, it's ok," he said and gently kissed her on the head.

"I just feel so silly."

"Silly is not a word I would ever describe you as," he said half laughing.

"I don't know Lincoln…I'm just reliving my past."

"Let me help you the way you've helped me."

"It's just that I haven't talked about it in a while."

"Maybe you need to." The thunder roared again and the hail was slowing down. "From the looks of the weather outside, we're not going anywhere. So we have all night. Just take your time."

A few minutes passed and she lay in the comfort of his arms. It felt so good, so safe. She loved the feel of his hands running though her hair, the warmth of his body. Being with Lincoln and developing feelings for him had brought it all back. It reminded her of what she used to have and she didn't know how much she had missed it until now, hiding her needs behind her anger, behind a wall of denial. But it had eaten her alive for so long, keeping her from living life, from giving her a second chance.

"Remember that guy I told you about. The one I fell in love with," she said.

"The FBI guy who introduced you to the company?"

"Yes…His name was Tom. We were lovers. Not while in the FBI, but afterwards. I guess we were attracted to each other while in the FBI, but we never acted on our feelings. And when we joined the company, we couldn't deny what we felt for each other. So we started to date. But we never told anyone. We wanted to keep a professional demeanor while at work. So we dated in secret."

"Was dating against Company rules?"

"I don't really know. But imagine it would be. It's just that we wanted to keep it personal, without all the gossip. So we dated outside of work," she took a deep breath. "He had a daughter. A beautiful girl named Crystal. She was 7 years old. She had these little freckles on her face. So adorable." She gave a slight laugh at the pleasant memory of this little girl.

"Crystal lived with her dad. He had full custody. His ex-girlfriend wasn't ready to be a mom and left them when Crystal was a baby. I guess she was too young to handle being a mother. So for the first time in my life I knew what it was like to have a family of my own. Crystal really took to me. She never had a mother and I was like her mother. She wanted to try on my heels and teach her about make-up. I did her hair. Things like that. And I knew how she must have felt because I grew up without a mother…

"So Tom and I dated for a couple of years and we talked about marriage. And I was so happy. Things were great. And then one day he learned something, something about the company. He sounded scared. He called me and told me to come over and that he couldn't talk too much on the phone…On days like this, I start to remember…I start to relive it all," she said.

"Days like what?" he asked.

"It had been raining that day, not as bad as today. There wasn't a tornado. But it was bad. I remember driving in it. I couldn't see very well. I had the windshields on high and it was nighttime….It was so difficult to see on the road but I had to go to him. His voice was so scared when he called me. There was something wrong, I knew it…So I drove to his house," she paused for a moment and Lincoln lay in silence, giving her time to reflect.

"I walked into his home and what I saw, I will never forget," she said, her voice stressed.

Lincoln continued to stroke her hair and gave her another gentle kiss on her head.

"I heard a gun fire and there was this man standing there with a gun in his hand aimed at Tom, who was lying on the floor. I immediately reached for my gun and shot him. But it was too late…I ran over to Tom, he was lying there bleeding…He was holding his daughter in his arms. She was dead Lincoln. There were pools of blood surrounding them. His and her blood. I could still see him rocking her lifeless body in his dying arms. I could still see the pain and torment in his eyes. I remember dropping to my knees. I checked her pulse, but she was dead and there was nothing I can do….And he had this look in his eyes, this pleading look. But I couldn't help him. It was out of my control."

"Oh Jane, I'm so sorry," he said. He held her tight as she cried on his chest.

"Before he died, with his dying breath he told me that The Company was responsible and that Aldo was working in secret to bring them down. And then he just stopped breathing, with his daughter in his arms… She was just a little girl. And they killed her. They killed her."

Lincoln felt her pain. He remembered fearing for his own son's life.

"I remember feeling numb. I wanted to stay but I couldn't. And as I got up to leave, I looked down at the man I shot. I knew him. He worked for The Company. That's when I knew how evil they were. That's when I knew I had to do something to keep them from killing others, from destroying more lives, and I've been on that mission ever since."

As he listened, it all became clearer to him. The mission she had been on was a personal one, seeped in the unbearable loss of a loved one and a future that would never be. Jane did have it all. She had love and family only to have it brutally taken from her. And like him, she hid the loss behind a veneer of anger and retribution. But she had kept this wall up for so long and Lincoln couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he too kept his own personal wall up, over the death of Veronica, for too long. In the end what would he be denying himself.


	14. There are No Words Left to Say

Lincoln drove for nearly 2 hours as they headed back to the safe house. For the first time since their journey began, they hadn't spoken. The music filled the air but it went virtually unheard and couldn't mask the uneasiness that hovered between them.

Lincoln turned onto the dirt road that led to the house, which was secluded behind trees a couple of miles ahead. He never took his eyes off the road, while Jane stared blindly out of the window. The two had become so close, had shared things they hadn't shared with others, had let themselves feel their own pain, while allowing the other to help fight their demons. And now the end was coming. The road trip was over and they were worried that there would be no more opportunities to talk like this.

Both knew what it would mean to open the front door and step into the safe house. Their quiet time together would be stifled by the 3 people who lay in wait inside that house.

Lincoln wanted to see his son. For the past 3 years he had dreamt of a future with LJ, of being the father he wanted to be before imprisonment stole that from him and bridged a gap between them. But suddenly his anxiousness turned to an uneasy dread. A dread that left him with a pain in his heart. It wasn't that he didn't want to hold his son, it was because he knew that once he walked through that door his focus would be forced to shift from talking to Jane to giving his son his undivided attention, from turning his back on his desires and the need for companionship. Another guilt added to his already burdened heart.

Lincoln had his entire family in that house, everything he was fighting for. Where did that leave Jane? She would be an outsider, no longer needed by Lincoln. How would she fit in? What would she say? She felt awkward, like piece of old furniture that was no longer needed. She started to believe it was best that she left Lincoln to his family. It had only been a few days, conversations spent to pass the time. She was naïve to think it could be something more.

Less than a mile up the road, Lincoln spotted the house peeking through the leaves. He felt a wave of anxiety flush his body. Without thinking, working on impulse, he stopped the car, turned off the engine and walked out. Jane studied him in confusion. She watched him walk around the front of the car and over to the passenger side. He was pacing, rubbing his hands together.

Jane took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, leaning on the door. Her eyes never leaving his, trying to decipher what he was thinking and hoping his thoughts were about her. Lincoln could see her standing there, but he continued to pace, his mind trying to gather his thoughts. But they were so muffled with confusion. His mind riddled with so many conflicting thoughts. He loved Veronica. Surely no one could replace her. And he felt guilty for even thinking of it. She died for him. Who was he to throw that away for something new? Would that make him callous? What would Michael think of him? What would his son think of him?

He was impulsive. Always acting and never thinking. That was his flaw, that's what continued to get him into trouble time and time again. He had to think this through. Don't be so eager to follow his heart. But that wasn't who he was and his longing for this woman he hardly knew overtook him. His impulses won over. He walked toward her.

He paused nearly 10 feet from Jane and looked up at her. She wasn't Veronica, but Jane was beautiful and not just on the outside. She listened to him, she understood him. Maybe better than he understood himself. A person is lucky to have 1 love in a lifetime. Is it possible to have 2? He wasn't in love with Jane, but yet something about her told him he could fall for her. She did what so many others hadn't done in his life—she allowed him to be him and she accepted him for it. She knew he wasn't perfect. She knew of his crimes, of everything he had been through and she understood, without judgment. How often does one find that?

Jane had watched him pace and she felt butterflies in her stomach. She was terrified of walking in that house. Because she knew it would mean the end of what she had with Lincoln. It would be like it never happened. Like burning some of the pages of her life. Lincoln was the only man aside from Thomas, who she felt so completely comfortable around. She didn't have to lie about who she was and what she had done, about the people she had killed. Lincoln already knew. With him there was no awkward beginning, but a continuation.

A moment had passed as both stood face to face. A breeze swept through, blowing her long strands about, his opened shirt flapping in the wind. But neither of them could feel it. Only the heat of what they both wanted, of a desire that came at them with no warning.

They were both 2 damaged souls. Each struggling to put the pieces of their lives back together.

He walked toward her, standing a few inches from her. She slightly gasped at the closeness of his body next to hers, at the intensity of the way his deep blue eyes penetrated hers with a passion she had not seen in so long.

Then suddenly his face softened. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked back at her. She felt a tightness in her chest as she struggled for air. They had said so many things for the last few days, and suddenly they were both without words, until finally he spoke…

"I don't know what to say," he said

"Don't say anything."

She closed her eyes and slightly parted her lips. Lincoln gently clutched her face, his thumb lining the shape of her mouth then he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Their kisses were soft and sweet as he drank the fullness of her lips. She pulled him tight to her body, her hands caressing his muscular back.

He could hear her moan under her breath at the feel of their first kiss. And he grew hungrier, delving deeper in her mouth. Their kisses grew more fervent, their bodies longing to feel the warmth of the other. And before either of them knew what was happening, their bodies lay on the grass, their clothes tossed aside.

It was all happening so fast, but neither had the strength to pull away. Thinking and thought processes castes away by the wind, their impulsive longings drawing them closer.

He lay on top of her, their lonely hearts aching to come together, their bodies becoming one. Each push, each thrust inside her warmth released moans of a euphoric yearning she had long since forgotten. This man she knew for such a short period of time had become a part of her and had made her feel like a woman again. And as their mouths tasted each other, the wetness of their kisses were infused with the sweetness of the tears that cascaded down her cheeks.

She reached down and pushed him deeper inside her, sending his mind and body into a frenzy. He thrust inside her with slow easy movements, controlling each push, wanting it to last a lifetime. All his pain, all his self-doubts like fleeting pieces of grass fluttering away in the wind that passed them by. Their bodies continued to move to the rhythm of their heart beats until they came together under the noon sky.

Lincoln lay on his back, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight to his chest. They were both breathless. Their hearts beating alongside each other. He gave her a gentle kiss on her head then pulled her face up to his, studying her beauty.

And he looked at her with eyes that said, "Please don't go".

And she looked at him with eyes that said, "I won't leave you."


End file.
